Repetitions
by madam-malicia
Summary: AU SLASH Orphaned Harry Potter is adopted by Sirius Black just before his 17th birthday. In his new town, Harry falls for Draco Malfoy and tries to uncover the mystery surrounding his parents' death. NEW CHAPTER!
1. Chapter One

Title: Repetitions  
  
Pairing: H/D  
  
Rating: PG-13 to R  
  
Warnings: Complete AU, Set in America, Slash, WIP  
  
Summary: Orphaned Harry Potter is adopted by Sirius Black just before his 17th birthday. In his new town he begins a relationship with Draco Malfoy and tries to uncover the mystery of his parent's death.

AN: This is a repost as the last version was deleted. Since I don't want to get deleted again this story will no longer be interactive. Previous readers will notice that there are fewer chapters as I have combined chapters one and two since they were so short compared to the others. This reposted version has been altered slightly to account for spelling errors and such. I have also added a bit more detail to things but there is no need to reread if you have already read the previously posted chapters. For the old readers the next new part will be chapter 4.   
  
Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed last time. I remembered that a few of you had some questions or comments that requested an answer. Since I was deleted and didn't save my reviews I don't remember what they were so if you repost your questions and such I will answer them when I post part 4.

* * *

At 3840 Magnolia Crescent there sat a small brown brick building completely devoid of any personality save for a rather large wooden sign, staked into the front lawn, deeply and ornately carved with the words: Polkiss and Associates Attorneys at Law. Inside this incredibly unspectacular building there sat an incredibly spectacular man. Almost nearing seven feet tall, with long scraggly black hair and a long scraggly beard to match, he was a man who quite easily put the fear of God into any person he blessed with the simplest of scowls. And on this day, July 27th, to be exact, he donned his meanest one yet. The recipient of this scowl, a large, curly-haired, blond boy, quickly removed the straw from his mouth, spit the paper wad into his hand and deposited them in a nearby trash can before cowering in the farthest corner of the humid and silent waiting room.  
  
The would-be victim sat near a closed door, completely oblivious to his almost attack. He was a tall boy with messy black hair falling into deep green eyes. The boy appeared to be completely immersed in the task of cleaning his glasses with the hem of his frayed and greatly oversized shirt. However, the slight tilt of his head and glazed look in his eyes easily conveyed that all his attention was focused on the hushed whispers occasionally sneaking out of the room next to him. Hearing heavy footfalls near the door, the boy leaned in.   
  
"Really, Sirius," An exasperated voice whispered. "I must ask you to reconsider. These are the absolutely worst kind of people. If you let me take this to court a judge will easily find in your favor. Fifty thousand-"   
  
"-is a small price to pay," interrupted Sirius. "You know as well as I that a hearing will take weeks if not months." Sirius suddenly snickered. "And I can hardly say I have much faith in the system."  
  
"And with good reason but-"  
  
"No, Moony, you saw him! I can't believe no one has ever intervened before. These people are obviously neglecting Harry. We can't let it go on any longer."  
  
"But, this isn't legal, Padfoot, and-"  
  
"Don't you Padfoot me! How on earth did I get the only ethical lawyer in America?" There was a tense pause and Sirius continued reprovingly. "There was a time you didn't mind a little law breaking."  
  
"All right, all right! Just let me talk them down-"  
  
"No! I want this over with. Get the papers drawn up so we can take Harry and get out the hell out of here."  
  
The voices dimmed out and the boy known as Harry Potter sat up straight in his seat with a wide grin stretching his face. He could hardly believe that after all these years he was finally getting a bit of good luck. Tragedy wasn't just something he knew but something he was well, well acquainted with. It all began when he was still an infant. On a fateful Halloween night, almost 16 years ago, his parents, James and Lily Potter, were killed in an automobile accident and Harry, who had also been present came out of the ordeal relatively unscathed except for a jagged scar on his forehead that resembled a lighting bolt. He was sent to live with his mother's sister, Petunia Dursley, and her family. The Dursleys did not even attempt to disguise their irrational hatred for Harry and often treated him no better than a slave. They even made him sleep in the closet under the stairs until he was 13 and became too big for the tiny, cramped space.   
  
Harry's luck began to change last month when Sirius Black showed up on the Dursleys' doorstep. Harry had seen Sirius Black before as the man's face had been plastered across the news almost every day in the previous months. Several years ago, Sirius had been convicted of murdering a man named Peter Pettigrew, among many others in a drug deal gone bad. Sirius was sentenced for life in the greatly feared Azkaban Maximum Security Prison until a few months ago when new evidence came to light. Namely, the very much alive Pettigrew. Sirius was promptly given a new trial where it was proved that it was Pettigrew who had murdered all those people. Sirius was released from Azkaban and the very next day arrived at Number 4 Privet Drive in Surrey, Missouri, which had been Harry's home for the last sixteen years.   
  
Thankfully, the Dursleys' had been gone that day and Harry had broken the long-standing rule about not answering the door. Harry, though astonished to find the infamous Sirius Black visiting him, had listened intently to his story and learned that Sirius had been best friends with Harry's parents and was, in fact, his godfather. The two talked for hours and Sirius was enraged to find out how the Dursleys had been treating him. Harry had immediately felt a kinship with the man and was greatly disappointed when their meeting was cut short. The Dursleys had come home unexpectedly and Sirius snuck out the back door. Harry thought he would never see Sirius again. That was, until this very morning when the Dursleys, with uncharacteristic glee, brought him and their son Dursley to the Polkiss' law firm. They had told him to back his things and Harry was sure that he finally being sent to reform school. The Dursleys had threatened him with this almost daily, even though a no better-behaved boy could be found for miles around.   
  
Harry was quite excited when he arrived at the law firm and found Sirius waiting there along with a veritable giant of a man and Remus Lupin, who Harry recognized from the papers as Sirius's lawyer in his second trial. Harry hadn't even had time to talk to Sirius before he and the Dursleys along with their lawyers disappeared behind the door that currently held all of his attention.   
  
"Harry, if ya keep it up, you're gonna wear the glass away," The giant man said, beaming at the boy in front of him. Harry startled at the booming voice but quickly returned the smile and put his glasses back on his face with an embarrassed blush. Harry supposed that he should be frightened of this tall massive man but there seemed to be an underlying kindness beneath the rough exterior and Harry was warming to him quickly. The fact that Dudley was terrified of the man was just icing on the cake.   
  
The closed door opened and out came Petunia and Vernon Dursley. Harry had never seen them look happier. Without a glance to their nephew, the Dursleys rushed to Dudley and Petunia began fussing over her son. Laying soft kisses on his hair, she gaily said, "Oh Duddly-kins, we are going to get you that new car after all!"   
  
Vernon Dursley stood, looking mighty proud, as he held a black briefcase to his chest, indulgently caressing the leather. Just then Sirius and Remus emerged from the room. Sirius was smiling but soon his face fell with uncertainty.   
  
"Umm, Harry...I kinda adopted you, if that's okay with you," He said quietly.   
  
"You mean you didn't even ask him first?" asked Remus, looking horrified. He ran his hands through his silver-streaked tawny hair and despairingly continued. "I am going to be disbarred."  
  
Sirius grimaced in Remus' direction before turning to Harry with hopeful eyes. Harry was aware that he should be much more cautious about leaving with a man he barely knew but there was something that just felt right about it. And nothing could be worse than staying with the Dursleys. So, with a smile he said, "Of course, its okay with me."  
  
Sirius' face brightened and he gave Remus a smug look. Remus shook his head and said, "I'll be in the car."   
  
"So...er-what happens next?" Harry asked, watching the distraught lawyer leave.  
  
"Well, now I take you home!" Sirius said, as he picked up Harry's suitcase. "We have to go now if we want to get home before dark." Sirius nodded towards the Dursleys and continued, distaste evident in his voice. "Did you want to say goodbye to them?"  
  
Harry looked over at the Dursleys. As though feeling his stare, they looked up and frowned.  
  
"Er-I would rather not," Harry said, turning back to Sirius.   
  
"Alright, any friends you need-"  
  
"No..." Harry said, blushing. The truth was, Harry didn't have any friends, as Dudley would beat up anyone who got close to him.   
  
With the giant in tow, Sirius and Harry left the law firm. Sirius led him towards a very large, rusted out open Jeep where Remus sat, attempting to keep a very large black dog from drooling all over his suit. Harry eyed the dog apprehensively and the big scraggly man chuckled.   
  
"Now doncha go worrying about Fang. He wouldn't hurt a fly!"  
  
As if to prove this point, Fang leaped at Harry and began licking his face. Harry laughed and it took well over a minute to calm the excited dog. Sirius threw Harry a rueful smile.  
  
"I'm sorry we couldn't bring a better car. But this rust bucket is the only thing that Hagrid here can fit in."   
  
"Awww, don't insult Buckbeak. You'll hurt his feelings." Hagrid lovingly patted the Jeep before lumbering into the driver's seat.   
  
"Oh, yeah!" Sirius said as though remembering something. "This is Rubeus Hagrid, an old friend. We brought him along in case Dursley gave any trouble."   
  
Harry nodded towards the giant with a grin. "We met in the waiting room."  
  
"And this is Remus Lupin, I told you about him the first time we met." Sirius continued.   
  
Remus smiled and said, "Hello Harry, I can't believe how much you look like your father."   
  
"You knew my father too, Mr. Lupin?"  
  
Lupin nodded. "Yes, and please call me Remus. Sirius and I were good friends with him. We had a little gang and called ourselves the Marauders." Remus suddenly chuckled. "We used to get in so much trouble."   
  
"That was before Moony defected to the right side of the law," Sirius said with slight disapproval.   
  
"A good thing he did!" Hagrid interjected. "If it weren't for him that rat Pettigrew would have never been found."   
  
"Ah, Wormtail..." Sirius said with no small amount of bitterness.  
  
Harry was taken back by Sirius sudden change of demeanor and asked, "Wormtail?"  
  
"He was the fourth Marauder, Wormtail," Remus explained. "Otherwise known as Peter Pettigrew."  
  
"Oh," Harry said, casting Sirius a concerned look.   
  
"Water under the bridge," Sirius said softly. "I just hope he enjoys Azkaban as much as I did."   
  
"Well, everyone in," Hagrid said, interrupting a long awkward pause as he brought the Jeep to life. The engine roared loudly before settling into a sputtering sound. Harry squeezed into the Jeep's back seat with Remus and Fang. Sirius took the front passenger seat and looked dubiously at the vehicle. "Are you sure this is going to get us home?"   
  
"Got ya here ok, didn't he?" Hagrid said, sounding somewhat miffed. "Buckbeak ain't let me down in the 20 years I had him and he ain't about to start now."  
  
During the trip, Harry learned that his new home was called Grimmauld Place and located in Hogsmeade, Illinois, near the Mississippi river. Harry also learned that he had been born there, as had his father before him and that his parents met at Hogsmeade University. Sirius and Remus regaled him with tales about the Marauders and his parents and any doubts Harry had about leaving with Sirius evaporated as the hours passed. Never had he ever felt more accepted than he did now, with these three men, all of them looking at him with great affection.  
  
Just as night fell, the group arrived at Hogsmeade singing heartily at the top of their lungs to Hagrid's old 8-tracks of Credence Clearwater Revival. Many pedestrians stopped to stare at the rag-tag group of men but this went entirely unnoticed by Harry who was having the most fun of his life. The streets of Hogsmeade were soon behind them and Hagrid pulled the Jeep into a forlorn dusty road. A dark, desolate looking mansion shortly appeared on he horizon and Harry's jaw dropped.   
  
"What is this place?" Harry asked. "It looks haunted."   
  
Hagrid laughed. "Aye, I believe it is."  
  
Sirius frowned at Hagrid before turning in his seat to look at Harry. "Grimmauld Place. It's been in my family for years. Trust me, its not as scary looking in the daytime."  
  
The Jeep pulled to a stop and Harry jumped out to get a closer look. It had to be the biggest house he had ever seen and he boggled at it in awe.   
  
Sirius came up beside him and hesitantly said, "I know it doesn't it look like much now but we are working on getting it restored and-"  
  
"Are you kidding me? Its great!" Harry ran up the front stone steps and bent to look the handles of the two huge front doors. "Wow, they are shaped like snakes." He turned to Sirius with a wide grin and eagerly asked, "Do you think it's really haunted?"  
  
Before Sirius could answer a loud bang blasted into the night and everyone jumped. A squat man carrying an old fashioned shot gun came running towards them.   
  
"Get on outta here you hooligans!" The man screeched.   
  
The man, who appeared to be very old with a baldhead, exceptionally large ears and a snout-like nose, stopped abruptly. He smiled maliciously at Sirius and said, "My apologies, Mr. Black. I didn't realize it was you."   
  
Sirius frowned at the man and motioned to Harry. "Kreacher, this is Harry Potter and Grimmauld Place is his home now. I trust you will not mistaken him for burglar and try to shoot his head off."   
  
"Of course not." Kreacher smiled at Harry and continued in his solicitous voice. "No good wastrels and their snot nosed brats."  
  
Harry looked at Sirius in shock but he waved Kreacher off. "That will be all."   
  
Kreacher bent himself in a ridiculously low bow before turning on his heels and heading for the back of the house. Sirius sent Harry an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I should have warned you about Kreacher. He's a bit touched in the head. Been the caretaker here for decades."   
  
"And a fine job of care taking, he does," Hagrid mumbled under his breath.   
  
"Yeah, well, I tried to get rid of him with a generous bribe but the old loon wouldn't leave." Sirius glumly said. "Just try to avoid him, Harry. He isn't around much as it is."   
  
With that said, Hagrid left and Sirius and Remus led Harry into his new home. Grimmauld Place had obviously been at one time a very stately manse but time and neglect had done much damage. Sirius promised Harry a tour in the morning and shepherded him to a large bedroom on the second floor. It had apparently been newly cleaned as a lemony chemical scent still permeated the air. The bedroom was done in a rich reds and golds with an adjoining bathroom. Harry had never been in a room this nice and couldn't believe that it was really his.   
  
"Molly cleaned the room while we came to pick you up," Sirius said. "She is helping me fixed the place up and has a son your age. I'll call and ask her to bring him along when she comes tomorrow."  
  
"You don't need to do-"  
  
"Nonsense! A boy your age needs friends. Ron's a good kid and I'm sure you'll get along famously."   
  
Harry then yawned loudly and Sirius jumped out the chair he had been sitting in. "I think that's our cue to leave. Sleep tight and we'll see you in the morning."   
  
"Oh, you live here too?" Harry asked Remus.  
  
"No, but I stay the night sometimes."   
  
"Oh." Harry said, smiling at the pair of men. "Well, sweet dreams."   
  
The next day dawned bright and early. Harry woke with a start, not quite sure where he was. Everything came to him quickly and Harry pinched himself to make sure he wasn't still dreaming. It all seemed like a fairly tale. He even had a personal fairy godmother, well, godfather. After a very girly giggle, Harry leaped from his bed and got ready for the new day.   
  
An hour later Harry wondered through the halls of Grimmauld Place. Sirius had been right in that the place was far less spooky in the daytime. Though with the ever-present cobwebs and heavy antiquated furniture, Grimmauld Place certainly would have made an ideal setting for any horror movie. Harry entered a long hall with paintings covering both side of the walls. He stopped before one painting. It was a life-sized portrait of an older woman. She had a mean looking face with bugged out eyes and a thin frowning mouth. Harry got a chill just from looking at the painting and he quickly moved away from it. At the end of the hall, Harry heard the hushed voices of Sirius and Remus from behind a closed door.   
  
"We have to tell him, Sirius."  
  
"I know, Remus, but-"   
  
"No buts! Harry needs to know."  
  
Harry swept into the room, which turned out to be a very large kitchen, and Sirius and Lupin gaped at him. Sirius moved away from Remus and shot him a guilty look.   
  
"What do I need to know?" Harry asked, looking back and forth between the two men.   
  
"Er...umm," Sirius stammered. "Your birthday party! Yes, we...umm needed to tell you that we are having a birthday party for you. I wanted it to be a surprise but Remus always hated surprise parties and insisted that we tell you."  
  
"Sirius!" Remus yelled, greatly exasperated. He jerked his briefcase off the table and left the kitchen in a huff. Harry stared after him.   
  
"Never mind him," Sirius said, waving dismissingly towards the door. "Er-one of his favorite uncles got a nasty shock at his surprise party and had a heart attack when everyone yelled 'surprise' been rather fanatical about surprise parties after that. Was quite upset that I even considered having one."  
  
Harry thought something smelled a little fishy but the suspicions were disregarded in his excitement over a birthday party. "I never had a birthday party before."   
  
"Not one?"   
  
Harry shook his head and blushed at the pitying look Sirius sent him. "I didn't mind or anything. Its just a birthday, after all, hardly a big deal."   
  
"Of course it's a big deal!" Sirius said resolutely. "We'll throw a huge party on the afternoon of the 31st."   
  
Harry laughed. "A huge party? But I don't know anyone here but you, Remus and Hagrid. Oh and Kreacher."   
  
Sirius frowned at Kreacher's name. "Well, we won't be inviting Kreacher. But Remus and Hagrid will be there. As well as the Weasleys, the Weasleys alone make up half of the population of Hogsmeade. You'll meet some of them later today. Let's gets you some breakfast. Hagrid will be here any minute, we're going into town to get you some new clothes."  
  
"I don't need new clothes," Harry said, taking the plate of pancakes thrust at him.   
  
"You mean you like those clothes?" Sirius asked, eyeing Harry's baggy tattered clothing.   
  
"Well...no, but you done so much already. Taking me in and all. I know I wasn't...cheap."  
  
Sirius was taken back. "How did you know about that?"  
  
"I heard you and Remus talking."  
  
"I see. Well, don't mention that to anyone. What happened in Surrey wasn't exactly in full accordance of the law."   
  
Harry nodded at this and renewed his protests over the purchase of new clothing, all of which were dismissed by Sirius. Hagrid arrived in his loud, rambling Jeep and soon the three were off to Hogsmeade.   
  
In the bright glare of the mid-morning sun Harry got his first good look at Hogsmeade. It made Surrey, Missouri, in which conformity was the key, pale in comparison. Harry watched colorful shops and houses of every size, shape, and design fly by as Hagrid zoomed to the town square. They stopped in front of a small store called Mrs. Malkin's Clothing for All Occasions and got out of the Jeep.   
  
"I'm gonna head down to Eeylops Emporium, need to get a few supplies for my latest...project," Hagrid said as he headed towards a nearby pet supplies store.   
  
Sirius laughed at Hagrid's retreating back and led Harry into the clothing shop. A dark haired lady in a mauve dress swooped in front of them as soon as they entered the store and smiled brightly at Sirius.  
  
"Oh! Finally gotten around to seeing me!" She said, pulling Sirius into a big hug. When they disentangled she looked over at Harry. "I didn't know you had a son."   
  
"I adopted him just yesterday," Sirius said proudly. "Mrs. Malkin, this is Harry Potter, James and Lily's son."  
  
"James and Lily..." Mrs. Malkin said, with a sad look. "I should have known, you look just like your father." She walked over to him and peered into Harry's face. "Got Lily's eyes though. She worked for me while attending college. I bawled my eyes out when I learned-"   
  
"Yes, well Harry needs a whole new wardrobe," Sirius said quickly. Mrs. Malkin gave Sirius an indiscernible look before turning to Harry with a smile. She looked carefully over Harry's attire and nodded. "Most definitely."   
  
"Harry, I need to go talk to Remus about a few things. His law firm is right over there." Sirius pointed to a building across the street. A big sign on the side said: Lupin, Shacklebolt and Tonks. "If you finish before I'm done, just come on over. God only knows how long Hagrid will be in Eeylops."   
  
Sirius dug into his back pocket and pulled out a credit card. He handed it to Mrs. Malkin. "I'm leaving you in capable hands. I'm sure she'll spare no expense."   
  
And with an amused glance to Mrs. Malkin, who was merrily fingering the credit card, Sirius left the shop. Mrs. Malkin directed Harry to rack of clothing and in short time heaped mounds of clothes in his arms. To Harry's embarrassment, she made him try on and model every outfit. An hour later Harry had twice as many clothes he thought any normal person needed and Mrs. Malkin went to the front of the store to ring them up. Harry was changing into one of his new outfits, which he was planning on wearing out, when he heard Mrs. Malkin say, "Why, hello there. I thought I would be seeing you today. I have your order in the back. I'll go get it right now."  
  
Harry emerged from the dressing room and stood in front of a large mirror adjusting the collar of his new red shirt.   
  
"Not bad, but I would go with green."   
  
Harry started and looked around for the source of the voice. He found him standing a few feet away by a display of shoes. He appeared to be a boy around Harry's age with short ash blond hair styled into controlled messiness and wore gray trousers with a tight black t-shirt stretched over his slender yet muscular frame. The boy walked over and draped his arms over Harry's shoulders. Harry inhaled sharply as he felt him touch the back of his neck.   
  
"Your tag was hanging out," The boy said simply, keeping his arms around Harry's shoulders as he looked intently at Harry's face. "Yes, definitely green. To match your eyes. They are very nice you know, even with those horrid glasses."   
  
"Umm. Thanks," Harry said with heated cheeks. "Yours are er-quite nice, too."   
  
Nice didn't even begin to describe what Harry thought about the boy's eyes. They were a pale gray with an icy twinge that melted Harry. But he could never tell him that. Several seconds passed and Harry was starting to feel like a lovesick prepubescent girl. The boy finally removed his arms and turned away.   
  
"Well, I'll see you around," He called over his shoulder.   
  
"Wait!" Harry yelled, stumbling towards the blond boy. He thrust out a hand. "I'm Harry Potter."   
  
"Harry Potter..." The boy said, lifting an eyebrow. He gave Harry a thorough look over, his eyes landed on the scar on Harry's forehead and sat there for a few seconds. "Yes, yes, you are," He finally said.   
  
"And you are?" Harry asked, thrusting his hand even further out.   
  
"I'm Draco. Draco Malfoy."  
  
"Pleased to meet you, Draco Malfoy," said Harry as the blond grasped his hand. Instead of shaking it, Draco merely held it in his hand and lightly caressed Harry's palm with the pad of his thumb.   
  
Harry was unsure of what to do so he decided to just enjoy the feeling of Draco's hand in his own. Unlike Harry's hands, which were large, rough and slightly calloused from years of labor, Draco's were soft, slender and pale against Harry's tanned skin. Suddenly Draco tensed at something he saw over Harry's shoulder. His eyes narrowed and his mouth twisted into a nasty sneer. Harry was astonished at the change and looked behind him searching for whatever held Draco's contempt. There was a large window behind him and out on the street Hagrid was putting a large box into the back of his Jeep. Hagrid looked up and waved to Harry. Harry grinned and nodded in acknowledgement before back to Draco. The boy's face was hard set though it had lost most of its maliciousness.   
  
"What's wrong?" asked Harry in confusion. "Are you ok?"  
  
Draco's eyes softened when they returned to Harry and he smiled.  
  
"Sure, do you know him?" Draco nodded towards Hagrid.   
  
"Hagrid? Oh, yeah. He's pretty cool. I came into town with him."  
  
Draco sniffed. "I see."   
  
"Here ya are, my dear!" interrupted Mrs. Malkin, loudly, as she carried a large white box to the front. "Came in just this morning."   
  
She stopped and stared at the two boys. Draco was still clutching his hand and Harry pulled away from him, flushing. Draco gave Harry an amused smile before turning to Mrs. Malkin and retrieving the box from her.   
  
"Well, it was nice meeting you, Harry Potter," said Draco as he headed for the door. "I'll seen you soon."  
  
Harry barely heard Draco as all his attention was focused the boys retreating backside. Harry watched that backside as it disappeared behind the closing door and reappeared a second later as Draco crossed the street and got into a shiny silver convertible.  
  
A loud throat-clearing sound broke Harry's concentration. Startled, he turned to Mrs. Malkin who had slid next to Harry and looked out the window as well. "Mr. Malfoy certainly leaves an impression, doesn't he?"  
  
Harry turned bright red and Mrs. Malkin giggled.   
  
The Lupin, Shacklebolt and Tonks Law Firm was located in a building so new that the smell and taste of wet paint still pervaded one's senses on first entry. Harry felt dizzy from the intensity of it and in his attempt to stable himself he proceeded to knock over a stack of boxes. Several papers and manila folders scattered across the floor. Harry laid his shopping bags in a nearby chair and attempted to right the mess. A tall bald black man with a pierced ear in a dark blue suit rushed over to help.   
  
"I'm so sorry!" said Harry, apologetically.  
  
"Hey, its all right. The place is in a bit of a mess. We just moved in," said the man as he put the last manila folder back into the box. He held out a hand. "I'm Kingsley Shacklebolt. You must be Harry Potter."  
  
Harry shook his hand and nodded.   
  
Shacklebolt motioned towards an open door. "Sirius is in there with Remus."   
  
"Thanks."   
  
Harry made his way to the indicated door and peered inside. Sirius held Remus in a tight hug. Remus' face was fiercely etched with emotion and Harry sat in a chair near the door. It was clear they were having a private moment. Several minutes later Sirius come out of the room and started when he saw Harry.   
  
"Oh! Hey, Harry. Been waiting long?"  
  
"No." Harry reached into his pocket and gave Sirius his credit card back. "Mrs. Malkin says you need to go over and sign the credit card receipt."   
  
"I'm sure she bled me dry," said Sirius with a chuckle. He clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Hey, I was just joking."   
  
"I know," replied Harry, with a blush. "I'm just not used to people spending so much money on me."  
  
"Well, get used to it. I'm, well, we're, loaded."  
  
A flushing Remus came out of the room and smiled distractedly at Harry and Sirius. He ran his fingers this hair trying the tame the messy mane. He walked over to cluttered desk, retrieved a soft leather briefcase and looked expectantly at Sirius.   
  
"Say, Harry..." began Sirius, casting Remus a odd look. "I've got to go with Remus for a bit." He handed the credit card back to Harry. "I noticed that you could use new glasses. Maybe some contacts too. There's an optometrist two blocks south. The place is called Occulus. Why don't you get your eyes checked out and meet up with us at the Leaky Cauldron for lunch at about...oh..." Sirius looked over at Remus.   
  
"I'd say around one." said Remus.   
  
"Right, one. The Leaky Cauldron is right down the street from Occulus. Tell Dr. Iris that I'll be in to sign the credit card slip this afternoon. Go ahead and leave your things here. We'll pick them up on our way back home."   
  
The two men left, talking in hushed whispers. Harry piled his bags in an abandoned nook where they wouldn't be in the way and waved goodbye to Shacklebolt. He was glad to get out of the building as the chemical paint smell was making him quite nauseous.   
  
Occulus was extremely easy to find and upon entering a very round dark haired man in a white lab coat came to assist Harry. Harry explained that he needed new glasses and on a whim, decided on contacts as well. The man, who introduced himself as Dr. Iris, quickly had Harry in a back room reading projected letters off the wall. After the examination Harry selected a pair of slim wire frames. Dr. Iris told Harry he could pick up his new glasses and contacts in a few days. Harry glanced at the clock on his way out and saw that he had a half hour before he was supposed to be at the Leaky Cauldron.  
  
Harry passed the time by exploring the shops in downtown Hogsmeade. He came across a small ice cream parlor called Florean Fortescue's. A man and a small child came out of the shop and Harry's mouth watered at the sight of their tall ice cream cones. Harry suddenly found himself very hot and sadly realized that he had no money on him. He was about to turn away when a voice drawled out.  
  
"So we meet again."   
  
Harry smiled and turned to the direction of the voice. Draco Malfoy sat on the hood of the silver convertible lazily licking away on a vanilla ice cream cone as if he hadn't a care in the world.   
  
"Hello...must be fate."   
  
Draco smirked and slide off the car. "Or maybe I'm stalking you." He thrust his ice cream cone in Harry's face. "Here. You look hot."  
  
Harry watched as the ice cream dripped over Draco's pale fingers. Draco raised it higher. "Hurry up, it's going to melt away."   
  
Harry took the ice cream cone and chopped down on it. Draco watched attentively as he sucked the melted ice cream off his own fingers. In just a few seconds Harry had devoured the entire cone and said, "Thanks, that hit the spot."   
  
Draco pouted. "That was entirely disappointing. Some needs to teach you how to properly eat an ice cream cone."  
  
"I didn't know there was a correct way."   
  
"Well..." began Draco with a lecherous smile. "There's a boring way and an exciting way. I'll show you the difference sometime."   
  
Harry blushed profusely and looked away. Draco leaned against his car and folded his arms across his chest. "So, I saw you come out of Occulus. Getting new glasses?"   
  
"Yeah, and some contacts too."  
  
"Good. It's downright sinful to keep those emeralds trapped behind glass."   
  
Harry blushed even deeper but managed to not turn away in embarrassment. Not even when Draco carefully and thoroughly eyed Harry from the top of his head to the tip of his shoes.   
  
"Well, I should go," said Draco, abruptly breaking his gaze. "Mother will have a hissy fit if I'm not home for lunch."   
  
"I'd like to see you again," said Harry, in a rush. Harry felt like an idiot the second the words were out of his mouth. For the millionth time that day Harry burned with mortification and he was sure that by nightfall his cheeks would be permanently stained red. But he was soon validated by the pleased smile Draco offered him.   
  
"I would like that very much."  
  
"Er...I'm having a birthday party on the afternoon of the 31st. I'm turning 17."   
  
"And where would this birthday party be?"  
  
"Umm." Harry realized he didn't exactly know how to get to Grimmauld Place. "I don't know how to get there actually. I just moved here. Its called Grimmauld Place."   
  
"Grimmauld Place?" Draco looked up and down at Harry with a new type of interest. "You're staying at Grimmauld Place?"  
  
"Yes, since yesterday. Do you know where it is?"   
  
"Everyone knows where it is. They say its haunted."  
  
"Everyone knows but me," admitted Harry. "And I don't doubt that its haunted. If any house was going to be haunted, Grimmauld Place is it."   
  
"How come you're staying there?" asked Draco with keen curiosity. "I know Sirius Black doesn't have any children."   
  
"He adopted me yesterday."  
  
"Fascinating," said Draco, distractedly. "Well, I see you then."   
  
"Great," said Harry as Draco got into his car and drove off.   
  
Harry flopped onto a nearby bench and grinned stupidly to himself. Draco was coming to his birthday party. Harry's elation melted into apprehension. This would cause great problems. Sirius didn't know he was gay and Harry had no doubts that he wouldn't be able to hide it around Draco. Especially since Draco's interest was so blatantly obvious. Maybe he was just misreading Draco actions. Though it made him sad Harry hung on to this before dismissing it. Harry might not have had any friends, let alone a boyfriend, but even he knew you didn't act that way around someone you weren't interested in. Well, maybe Sirius wouldn't care. The thought gave Harry hope. He had long learned to hide his homosexuality around the strait laced Dursleys but was aware that not everyone thought like them. Yes. Maybe Sirius wouldn't care.   
  
Harry sighed worriedly and realized that he had been sitting there for a long time, contemplating his dilemma. A short unshaven man with unkempt red hair wearing a tattered overcoat despite the summer heat scampered by and Harry called out to ask him the time. The man turned and looked at Harry with bloodshot eyes. He ambled over and smiled widely. A strong odor of alcohol wafted from him.   
  
"The time, kind sir?" asked the man. He opened one side of his coat revealing several gold watches attached to the lining. "You came to the right place."  
  
He pulled off one of the watches and offered it to Harry. "That's a gen-u-wine Rolex and its yours for only 50 bucks."   
  
Harry reached out to inspect the watch. He doubted that it was a "gen-u-wine" Rolex but figured it would at least tell him the time. Before Harry could grasp the watch, a rough veiny hand jerked it from the man.   
  
Harry looked up to see a fierce looking man with wild white hair and a large scar down the bridge of his nose. One of his dark eyes bugged out slightly and was glazed with a large cataract. The man inspected the watch, seemingly with his defective eye.   
  
"Since when does Rolex have two 'x's?" asked the man, in a snarl.  
  
"Now Mad-Eye, I was just telling the boy the time, that's all," protested the first man.   
  
"Dung, I have told you time and time again about your scamming ways."   
  
"You ain't the Sheriff no more!" exclaimed the man known as Dung. "And you can't go ordering people..."  
  
Harry surreptitiously slipped off the bench and away from the strange men. About a half a block away he heard Dung exclaim, "Damn! You lost me my customer."  
  
When Harry reached the Leaky Cauldron he spotted Hagrid sitting in a back table looking over a menu as he petted his long beard. Sirius and Remus were nowhere to be seen. Hagrid attempted to engage him in conversation but Harry was entirely preoccupied, thinking about how he was going to tell Sirius that he was gay.   
  
"What was that, Harry?" asked Hagrid, watching him with a strange look on his face.   
  
"Huh?" asked Harry, a little startled.   
  
"You said something about Sirius and gay," explained Hagrid, bearing down at him with his eyes.   
  
Harry turned bright red. He must have been mumbling aloud. "Er..."  
  
"Ya ain't got a problem with gay people, do you?" asked Hagrid, fiercely.   
  
"Um...er...no," stammered Harry. He paused and asked in slightly high voice. "Er...does Sirius?"   
  
Hagrid let out a barking laugh and returned to his menu. "Would be a mite hypocritical of him, if he did."  
  
Harry perked in his seat with a dropping jaw. "Sirius is gay?"   
  
Hagrid looked uncomfortable and looked around. "Not my place to say one way or another."   
  
"Wow. Sirius is gay," said Harry. He felt as though a very heavy burden was lifted from his shoulders.   
  
"You don't mind?" asked Hagrid from behind his menu.   
  
"Of course not."   
  
Hagrid gave a pleased nod. "Good. Better let him know that you know. He's been worried sick about how you were gonna react. Remus tried to tell him he was being pig headed about it but Sirius wouldn't listen."  
  
Harry wondered how he didn't see it before. That must be what Remus wanted Sirius to tell him this morning. Everything added up. Sirius was with Remus. Remus stays over sometimes. Their embrace earlier today. The way Remus fought so hard to get Sirius out of prison. The two men in question soon arrived and Harry watched them during the course of the meal. Their closeness was crystal clear. Throughout the two men shared intense intimate looks and every few minutes Sirius would unconsciously reached out to pet Remus' hand. Harry decided to tell Sirius that very night that he was gay.   
  
It was well past two o'clock when they made it back to Grimmauld Place. An old blue Ford Anglia was parked in the front and on the steps leading up to the house there sat a tall lanky red headed boy in dusty faded jeans and a red t-shirt with "Gryffindor" written across it. He stood up when Harry and Sirius approached.   
  
"Hello, Ron," said Sirius. He motioned to Harry. "Ron, this is Harry. I'm sure your mother told you all about him."  
  
A look passed between Sirius and Ron. Ron nodded and turned to Harry with a smile. The two boys went up to Harry's room and as Harry put his new clothes away they discovered that they had many common interests. The conversation soon turned to girls and Ron asked if he had a girlfriend back in Surrey. Harry hesitated but decided that he no longer wanted to remain in the closet. With a very strained casualness he told Ron that he was gay. Harry had never said "I'm gay" before and the words felt strange in his mouth.  
  
"Oh." said Ron. "I've got a gay brother. Want me to introduce you two? He's older than us but people say he's cute."  
  
Harry let a out a relieved chuckle. "No. I've already got my eye on someone."  
  
Ron was impressed. "So soon? Good luck! God knows I can't get a girlfriend to save my life. There's a Ravenclaw that seems to have a crush on me but she's too loopy for my tastes."   
  
"What's a Ravenclaw?" asked Harry, lifting an eyebrow.   
  
"Oh, well Hogsmeade High is a bit funky. Students get divided into four groups. I'm in Gryffindor, there's also Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. They make you take a test when you register and it tells you where you belong. I think it's based on grades and stuff like that but then there's an annoying uber-genius in Gryffindor and all the smart people seem to be in Ravenclaw."   
  
"Gryffindor, Ravenclaw...What strange names."  
  
"They are the people who founded Hogsmeade some 200 years ago. You'll find out all about it when you register. They like to pound the story into you."   
  
Later that afternoon Harry changed into some of his old pre-Sirius clothing. He and Ron joined Sirius and Ron's mother in the cleaning of a first floor study. By the time dinner rolled around they were like old friends and Ron promised to come back tomorrow with his mother. Mrs. Weasley and Ron left just as Remus arrived. Remus brought Chinese takeout with him and the three males sat around the kitchen table picking over the cartons of food. Harry noticed Sirius watching Remus closely and then looking worriedly at Harry when he thought he wasn't looking. It seemed like as good as a time as any.   
  
"I know that you are gay," blurted Harry, turning red. Sirius started at Harry revelation and turned to him with apprehensive guardedness. Harry continued in a rush. "I don't care, in fa-"   
  
"I told you he wouldn't care." interrupted Remus, beaming as he patted Sirius on the shoulder. Sirius let out a relieved sigh and said, "I wanted to tell you sooner but-"  
  
"Its okay." gushed Harry. "In fact, I'm gay too."  
  
"Wow." said Sirius, surprised. He suddenly grinned. "I guess this means I don't have to hide my Bette Midler albums after all."  
  
Remus shuddered. "I wish you'd burn those damn things."  
  
Over the next few days Harry worked alongside Sirius, Mrs. Weasley and Ron in restoring the house. Harry greatly enjoyed the Weasleys' company and was looking forward to meeting their entire family on his birthday. To Harry's disappointment there was no trips into Hogsmeade and so he didn't get any glimpses of the beautiful one known as Draco Malfoy. He spent every almost every waking second-and many sleeping seconds as well-thinking about the blond.   
  
On the morning of his birthday party Harry was extremely nervous and excited at the prospect of seeing Draco again. He worried that he wouldn't show up. He worried that he would show up. Harry showered and borrowed some of Sirius's more expensive aftershave. He generously splashed it on his cheeks even though he had never shaved a day in his life. Draped in his towel, Harry padded into his bedroom to take on the biggest task of all. What to wear.  
  
He started to reach for the white cotton briefs he normally wore but hesitated. Deep down Harry knew that he that there was no reason to think that Draco might see his underwear but, just in case, he grabbed the silky green boxers Mrs. Malkin had somehow goaded him into buying. After a long through assessment of his closet Harry pulled out a pair of khaki pants and a crisp but lightweight blue button down shirt. It wasn't long before Harry dismissed this ensemble as too preppy. Five outfits later Harry finally decided on a pair of black baggy-legged cargo pants that hung low on his narrow hips revealing just a hint of the green boxers beneath. There were fairly tight around the top and with much approval Harry noted the way they emphasized his butt. Harry chose a tight white ribbed tank top to finished it off. Sure the shirt was a little skimpy, but is was dreadfully hot outside and Harry wanted to be prepared. The fact that the shirt showed off his well-toned arms was just an added perk. Harry gave himself a final look over and nodded. "I'd do me."   
  
A loud chuckle startled Harry. Sirius was lounged in the doorway watching Harry in amusement. "Done preening?"  
  
"I'm not preening!" protested Harry.   
  
"Well when you're finished with whatever you are doing, Hagrid's here to take you to town. Your glasses and contacts are in."  
  
Dr. Iris would not let Harry leave until he was able to put his contacts in without hassle. Harry, who flinched at the idea of touching his eye, let alone actually doing it, was a very slow learner and it was a full hour before he left Occulus, new contacts in place. The contacts felt incredibly odd in his eyes and his vision was a bit unfocused but got better as each minute passed.   
  
Hagrid had gone to Eeylops Emporium, no doubt getting supplies for his "project" as he liked to call it. He waved Harry off saying he needed a few more minutes and Harry browsed nearby shops in his wait. He came across an old musty shop called Ollivander's Antiques and slipped inside. A subtle smell of smoke and charcoal seemed infused in the various items that haphazardly littered the store. Harry looked around but saw no clerk. He did spot a rather large mirror that looked very old. Harry walked up to it and noticed an inscription at the top. Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. Harry's brow wrinkled at the strange foreign words before focusing on the mirror again. He was about to fix a stray lock of hair when he noticed a familiar blond figure standing behind him.   
  
"Hey Draco!" exclaimed Harry, spinning around. "I think you are stalking me."   
  
"Well, I can't deny that I followed you in here. I was across the street at my father's office and saw you come in." Draco leaned in, clutched Harry's chin and tilted his face. "Oh much better without the glasses."  
  
Harry felt his face go hot.   
  
Draco drew back and waved his hands around the store. "Ollivander's has lots of interesting things. Looking for anything in particular?"  
  
Harry shook his head. "No, I just needed to kill some time."  
  
Draco nodded and began inspecting an old Victrola. "I used to spend hours here back when it was still over by Knocturn Avenue. Oh! Let me show you something!"  
  
Draco grabbed Harry's hand and dragged him to the front counter. "Look up there."  
  
Draco pointed to a tall shelf on which sat a locked glass case. Suspended in the case was a tiny silver dot.   
  
"What's that?" asked Harry.   
  
"It's an 1901 American Liberty Silver Penny, there's only 100 of them left in the world. I'm getting it for my birthday," explained Draco.   
  
"You're a coin collector!" Harry gave Draco an accessing look. "Never thought you would be the type."  
  
"It takes all types," drawled Draco. "Besides, we Malfoys like money."   
  
Draco suddenly turned to Harry with a mischievous glint in his eye. "We like green-eyed black haired boys too." Draco pressed Harry against a nearby bookcase. Draco leaned in and Harry could feel his warm minty breath ghost across his lips. Feeling his stomuch clench and his knees buckle, he clutched at the bookshelf behind him for support and screamed.  
  
"Shit!" Harry whipped his hand around to the front. Blood poured down his fingers. Draco blanched and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. He wrapped it around Harry's wound and asked, "What happened?"   
  
Harry turned around and searched the bookshelf. A small gold dagger with red-jeweled hilt lay on one of the shelves. A thin line of blood desecrated its golden surface. Harry picked it up and brandished it before Draco. "I must have cut myself with this."   
  
Draco moved away. "Well don't swing it around. We both don't need to get-"  
  
"You found it!" A wizened gravelly voice called out. "After all these years."   
  
The two boys looked over to see an older man with flyaway gray hair wearing rather old-fashioned clothing. A pair of clunky glasses were perched on his head and he donned them as he drew nearer.  
  
"Harry Potter!" exclaimed the man.   
  
"Er-am I wearing a name tag or something?" asked Harry, uneasily.  
  
"How fascinating that after all these years you should find The Lion's Blade. I thought I had lost it, most certainly after the fire," said the man. "Fascinating, indeed."  
  
"Why is that so fascinating?" asked Harry, shooting Draco a nervous glance.  
  
The man took the blade from Harry and inspected it in the dulled sunlight that poured through the dusty windows.   
  
"The Lion's Blade was created some two hundred years ago by a goldsmith named Fawkes Phoenix. Phoenix was an odd sort who believed he had found the secret to Alchemy. It is said that he was successful in his endeavor and managed to turn a lump of coal into the purest of golds. And from that gold he fashioned two knives, just two." The man leaned in and hovered over Harry. "What's fascinating, my dear boy, is that you should be destined to find this knife, when its brother gave you that scar!"  
  
Harry clapped his uninjured hand over his scar and shook his head. "No, you must be mistaken. I got this scar in a car accident that killed my parents."   
  
"Oh no, no...your parents were murdered...in cold blood." 


	2. Chapter Two

Title: Repetitions  
  
Pairing: H/D  
  
Rating: PG-13 to R  
  
Warnings: Complete AU, Set in America, Slash, WIP  
  
Summary: Orphaned Harry Potter is adopted by Sirius Black just before his 17th birthday. In his new town he begins a relationship with Draco Malfoy and tries to uncover the mystery of his parent's death.

* * *

"Umm listen, Draco, I think I need to get going." Harry cast the older man a final wary look and headed for the front door of the shop. Draco stared after him; something akin to surprise swarming across his face. He chased after Harry and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Harry, wait! You didn't know?"  
  
"Know what?" asked Harry, almost challengingly.   
  
"About you parents?" answered Draco, his brow wrinkling. "How can you not know? There's even a book about it."  
  
Harry opened his mouth to answer but found himself speechless. After a few seconds of silence he gave Draco a small smile and said, "I'll see you later."   
  
Harry had just walked out the door when another hand grabbed him from behind and turned him around. It was the old man.  
  
"Here, Mr. Potter," said the man, thrusting the knife at Harry, its blade now safely engulfed in a leather sheath. "Take this with you. Free of charge, of course."  
  
Harry pressed the knife back towards the man. "I don't want that."  
  
"Perhaps not," began the man. "But I think it wants you." He unrelentingly shoved the knife at Harry leaving him no choice but to take it. Sighing, Harry put the knife in his pocket and slowly walked to Hagrid's Jeep in a daze. The giant was cheerfully humming to himself as he stuffed small boxes into the trunk.   
  
"Hagrid," began Harry, in a bewildered voice. "Were my parents murdered?"  
  
Hagrid ceased his humming and the grin fell from his face. "Who told ya that?"  
  
Harry pointed towards Ollivander's. "It's true, isn't it?" He pulled out the knife the man had given him and showed it to Hagrid. "He said a knife like this gave me the scar on my forehead."   
  
Hagrid backed away, refusing to meet Harry's eyes. "I think you need to talk to Sirius about that."  
  
Hagrid wouldn't answer any more of Harry's questions and the ride back to Grimmauld Place was quite tense. Hagrid continually cast gloomy looks at Harry and nearly swerved off the road when he saw Harry's bloodied hand. Harry explained that the knife had cut him and he was shocked by the near sob that erupted from the distraught man.   
  
At Grimmauld Place Sirius was in the front hall speaking with Kingsley Shacklebolt. Sirius immediately noticed Harry's distressed questioning demeanor and walked over to him.   
  
"Sirius...were my parents murdered?" asked Harry, without introduction.   
  
Sirius grimaced and began to speak when he noticed the bloody hand. "What happened to your hand?"   
  
"I was cut," explained Harry. "Now about my parents..."   
  
Sirius avoided Harry's question by pulling him into a downstairs bathroom and tending to the cut. Harry sat on the toilet as Sirius wrapped gauze around the wound. "How did this happen?" questioned Sirius, after the cut had been bandaged. Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out The Lion's Blade.  
  
"Good Lord! Where did you get that?" asked Sirius, yanking the knife from Harry and frowning at it.  
  
"A man at a place called Ollivander's gave it to me. He said one like it gave me my scar and that my parents were killed." Harry paused and looked up at Sirius. "Were they?"   
  
Sirius ran a shaky hand down his face and mumbled, "Damn Ollivander..."  
  
"Sirius!" exclaimed Harry. "Were they killed?"   
  
Sirius sat on the edge of the tub and stared dolefully at his godson. "God, Harry I didn't want you to learn like this. What did Ollivander tell you?"   
  
"Just that they were murdered in cold blood."  
  
He sighed and gave Harry an aggrieved look. "They were."  
  
"What happened?" demanded Harry.  
  
"They were killed by a crazy cult leader named Tom Riddle. The cult was called the Order of the Phoenix. They killed them as some sort of ritual sacrifice. Riddle stabbed James to death and when he went to kill you, Lily somehow managed to struggle free and stabbed him with his own knife. Riddle was killed. The followers then shot your mother."   
  
"How come didn't they finish killing me?"  
  
Sirius hesitated before answering. "There was a lot of talk but I believe that they were panicked and well, forgot you in the aftermath."   
  
"Why us?"  
  
"It could have been anyone, James and Lily were just the unlucky ones chosen."   
  
"I wonder why my Aunt lied about it."   
  
"Only they know why they lied to you. The murder made national news at the time and I guess telling you the lie was easier than dealing with what really happened. I was going to tell you the truth as soon as you got settled in a bit and used to everything."  
  
Harry heavily sighed and asked, "Is that cult still around?"   
  
Sirius shook his head. "No, they disbanded shortly after your parents murdered. All known members involved with the murders were sent to prison."   
  
Harry sat back on the toilet, closed his eyes and pulled at his hair. "This is crazy, Sirius."  
  
Sirius nodded and the two males sat in the bathroom in a contemplative silence until Shacklebolt banged on the door demanding to use the restroom. Sirius thought they should get rid of the Lion's Blade and Harry was in agreement. Seeing the knife again would just remind Harry of the tragedy that had befallen his parents. After they disposed the knife Sirius attempted to coax Harry into joining him outside but Harry insisted on going to his room with the excuse of needing to change his blood spotted shirt.   
  
Up in his room, Harry fell into his bed and pulled his blankets over his entire body despite the summer heat. Like most children, a young Harry Potter had believed that any of the night's monsters, real or imaginary, could be safely held at bay as long as he was completely encased in his covers. In time he realized the idea was quite foolish, but still, nothing could quite comfort him like this draped retreat. He laid there, for well over a half hour, thinking about his parents and the way they had died. He felt a surge of resentment towards his Aunt Petunia. How dare she keep this from him! Harry ultimately decided to just not think about it. Mulling over it would solve nothing. Certainly couldn't change the past. A quiet knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Harry swung the covers off and wiped at his sweaty face before saying, "Come in."  
  
It was Ron.  
  
"Hey Harry, I hope you like chocolate. Mom made you a obscenely huge birthday cake."  
  
Harry smiled weakly. "I like chocolate."   
  
"Are you alright?" inquired Ron. "You look like you're going to sweat to death. It's not that hot in here."   
  
"Yeah..." began Harry as he went to his closet to retrieve a new shirt. "I just found out that my parents were murdered." Harry looked over to Ron. "I guess you already knew about that."  
  
Ron blushed slightly and nodded. "Sirius didn't want anyone to say anything until he told you himself. Are you okay? I can't imagine what its like."  
  
Harry shrugged. "I always knew my parents were dead. I'm just pissed my relatives lied about it. Plus the way they were killed...its all so messed up."  
  
"That's for sure," agreed Ron. "Their murder haunted this town for a long time. People won't even go near Godric's Hollow. They are more scared of it then they are of this place."  
  
"Godric's Hollow?"  
  
Ron looked as though he didn't want to answer. "Your parents house." he hesitantly began. "That's where it all...happened."  
  
"I see. And Godric's Hollow is it's name?" asked Harry. "Do all the people here name their houses?"  
  
"Only the rich people."   
  
"Well, my parents couldn't have been rich," said Harry. "My Uncle Vernon used to yell at me about how my parents hadn't left a dime to support me."  
  
"I wouldn't know. Godric's Hollow looks like it used to be a nice place."  
  
"Hmmm." Harry stared into his closet, really seeing anything at all. An uncomfortable silence fell over the room as Harry thought about his parents. Eventually, he presented two shirts to Ron. "Which of these goes better with the pants?"  
  
Ron gave Harry a toothy grin, clearly relieved at the change of topic. "Trying to impress that boy you told me about?"  
  
"No!" exclaimed Harry. "I just want to look nice for my birthday party."   
  
Ron tried, but failed, to repress his snicker.  
  
"Well?" Harry slightly shook the shirts. "Which one?"  
  
"I don't know! Hell. I just throw on whatever's clean."  
  
Harry considered each carefully and decided on the tight green t-shirt. "I think I'll go with the green."  
  
"You do that," said Ron, shaking his head. "Your worse than my sister." Ron perked and turned to Harry. "I should warn you about Ginny. She just broke up with her boyfriend is on the prowl for a new man. I didn't tell her you were gay. I didn't know if it was a secret or anything."   
  
"Nope," said Harry as he changed into the green t-shirt. "I didn't tell anyone back in Surrey but I intend to be open about it here."   
  
The two boys made their way to back yard and Harry stopped short at what he saw. Numerous tables covered with white fabric littered the backyard with several people, nearly all of them unknown to Harry, milling around in groups laughing and talking among themselves. One long table sat at the front with a humongous chocolate cake taking up nearly the entire length. A smaller round table sat near it, laden with a huge pile of presents. Harry eyed that table with much eagerness.   
  
Sirius emerged from a sea of redheads, no doubt the rest of Ron's family, and wrapped an arm around Harry's neck.  
  
"You okay?" asked Sirius.  
  
Harry nodded and looked around. "Who are all these people?"   
  
"Most of them were friends of your parents," explained Sirius. "I'll introduce you around."  
  
Sirius first pulled Harry over to the Weasleys, in particular, a tall reedy balding man tending to a large barbeque grill, shooing a meddling Mrs. Weasley away with his spatula.   
  
"Harry, this is Arthur Weasley," said Sirius. Mr. Weasley smiled at Harry and shook his hand. "He is the patriarch of this herd of redheads."  
  
"But we all know who wears the pants in the family, don't we, Mom?" interjected a young man in a Hogsmeade State University t-shirt and khakis, as he roughly pounded Mrs. Weasley on the back, nearly causing her to tumble to the ground.  
  
"Really, George!" Mrs. Weasley admonished as she straightened herself.   
  
"I'm George!" An indignant voice cried out. A young man identical to first pushed to the front and turned to his twin. "You would think that after all these years our own mother would be able to tell us apart." George's face contorted with anguish. "Shows how much she loves us, doesn't it?"  
  
"That's all right, George," said Fred, equally as teary as he draped an arm around his brother. "We still have each other."  
  
Mrs. Weasley glared at her twin sons before turning to Harry. "These two brats are Fred and George," explained Mrs. Weasley, taking over the introductions. The twins cheerfully waved to Harry. "They are sophomores up at the university." She looked over at them and continued very sternly. "But they're going to be homeless bums if they don't get their GPA up."  
  
"C is for cookie and that's good enough for me," sang Fred, under his breath.   
  
Mrs. Weasley frowned at Fred before turning to a bespeckled, redheaded boy. "This is Percy," She said proudly, patting him on the shoulder. "He just graduated from Washington University down in St. Louis and will be soon attending Harvard Law School on a full scholarship." Percy primly inclined his head to Harry and gave him a thin-lipped smile. "He's made us all very proud!"   
  
"Speak for yourself, woman!"   
  
"This-" said Mrs. Weasley, pointedly ignoring George's outburst and motioning towards an towards a tall man with long hair in black leather pants and a green t-shirt. He had his arm around a petite, strikingly beautiful blonde. "-is our son Bill and his fiancée Fluer. They are getting married at the end of August. Don't let his rock star appearance fool you." She said, looking disapprovingly at his long hair. "He works as an investment consultant down at the bank."  
  
"Ello, Arry," Fluer said in a soft French accent. She held her hand out and Harry was about to shake it when he realized she expected him to kiss it. He gave the hand an awkward peck.   
  
"And this is Charlie," continued Mrs. Weasley, indicating a stocky, very freckle-y man. "He is a zoology professor at the university." Ron, who was standing next to Harry through it all, nudged him in the side and wiggled his eyebrows. Harry realized that this must be the gay brother and blushed as he shook the man's hand.   
  
"Where is Ginny?" asked Mrs. Weasley, straining her neck to look over the crowd. She spotted a redheaded girl in a short pink dress blatantly flirting with a dark haired man at least ten years her senior. "Virginia Weasley! You come over here right now!"   
  
Ginny pranced over, causing her ponytail to energetically bound from side to side. Harry," began Mrs. Weasley in a crooning voice, pushing Harry towards the girl. "This is our only daughter Ginny, the baby of the family. She is 16 and starting her junior year at the high school." Mrs. Weasley looked back and forth between Harry and Ginny, a coy smile planted on her face.  
  
"Hi Harry," said Ginny, flashing him a wide grin. "You're very cute."  
  
"He's also very gay!" Ron happily exclaimed.   
  
Ginny's and Mrs. Weasley's faces fell. Ginny looked to Harry for confirmation and he nodded with a blush. The youngest Weasley sighed, shrugged and walked away, her interest in Harry now gone.   
  
With the introductions to the Weasley's over, Sirius led Harry around to their remaining guests. Harry forgot most of their names almost immediately. Though a few did stick out such as Mr. Albus Dumbledore, a tall thin man with an extremely long white beard and twinkling blue eyes behind half moon glasses. Mr. Dumbledore was the principal of the high school and told Harry he looked forward to seeing in the new school year.   
  
Another notable guest was Nymphadora "Call me Tonks" Tonks, who arrived late with Remus. She was a pale, achingly thin young woman wearing a spiked wig in a most fierce shade of purple. She laughed at Harry, noticing him staring at the wig.  
  
"I always say if you're going to wear a wig then you might as well go all out," said Tonks as she adjusted her headpiece.   
  
As Sirius had promised, he had gone all out for Harry's birthday party and arranged several games and activities for the afternoon. However, Harry thought his godfather might have gone just a tad overboard when the clown arrived.   
  
"It's for the kids," explained Sirius, practically giddy as the clown wrapped around a long balloon around his neck, twisting it into a bowtie.   
  
Harry snickered and returned to his water balloon fight with Ron and the twins. Fred and George were preoccupied with attempts to pound Percy and their mother with balloons. This enabled Harry and Ron to sneak behind them and pelt them with over ten balloons before the twins retaliated by dumping an entire cooler of ice over the younger boys. Completely drenched, both Harry and Ron peeled their shirts off. Whistles and catcalls abounded from all sides. Not to be outdone, George and Fred, likewise, removed their shirts. They frowned at the resulting silence.  
  
Ginny sauntered over and sneered at her brothers before turning appreciative eyes to Harry. "I can still look!" She haughtily told the smirking Weasley males. Harry felt a little uncomfortable under her hot gaze and excused himself with the real need of fixing his contacts.   
  
In the downstairs bathroom, Harry made the mistake of taking out his contacts and spent over ten minutes trying to get them back in. Ron came into the house and told him from behind the bathroom door that it was time to eat. Harry gave up on his contacts and put them in their plastic case. He was just about to go to his room for his glasses when he heard the shocked voice of Ron.   
  
"What are you doing here?"  
  
"I was invited," came the lazy reply.   
  
Harry smiled to himself and rushed out of the bathroom. "Hi Draco! I was wondering if you were going to come."   
  
"I wouldn't have missed it for the world," said Draco, sending a smirk Ron's way.   
  
Ron's eyes were large and disbelieving as he looked at the two boys before him. Harry was grinning stupidly at Draco who in turn was devouring Harry's bare chest with lusty eyes. "Holy Shit." Ron muttered quietly to himself as he hesitantly walked out of the hall, pausing several times to look over his shoulder.  
  
"I don't think Weasley approves," said Draco, after Ron had completely left.  
  
Harry gave Draco a questioning look. "I told him I had invited someone...hmmm. Do you two not get along?"  
  
Draco made noncommittal noises and abruptly changed the subject. "Why are you squinting like that?"  
  
"I took my contacts out." Harry reached into to his packet and flashed the contacts case. "And can't get them back in."  
  
Draco pushed Harry into a chair and took the contacts case from him.   
  
"What are you doing?" asked Harry.   
  
"Putting your contacts in," replied Draco as he tilted Harry's head back. "Look up."  
  
Harry was intensely aware of how close he was to Draco. A minty, spicy fragrance wafted from Draco and Harry instinctively leaned into it. He did not realize that he was nuzzling against Draco until the blond's chest rumbled with laughter.   
  
"Stop fidgeting," commanded Draco. "Or I'll end up poking your eye out."   
  
Harry's cheeks were tinged pink as he attempted to stay as still as possible. Draco managed to get the contacts in, despite Harry scrunching his eyes shut whenever Draco's finger came close.  
  
"Thanks," said Harry, blinking away a few errant tears, as he grew accustomed to the contacts again. "I don't think I will ever get used to touching my eye."   
  
Draco chuckled. "Well, I guess I will have to come over everyday and put them in for you."  
  
"I hope I can afford your services."   
  
"I'm sure something could be arranged," said Draco, smirking. Draco suddenly turned serious and cocked his head to the side. "So how are you feeling? This morning didn't leave you in the best of circumstances."  
  
"I'm alright," said Harry, his face turning grim. "Sirius told me the truth. My relatives had said that they died in a car accident."  
  
"I suspected it might be something like that." Draco stepped forward and grabbed Harry's bandaged hand. "And how is your cut?"  
  
"It's okay," said Harry. "Only a flesh wound."  
  
"Good," said Draco, turning away to pick up a package gaily wrapped in pink floral paper adorned with white and silver ribbons. He thrust the package at Harry. "Happy Birthday, Harry Potter."  
  
"Nice wrapping paper!" teased Harry.   
  
"Yes, well, my mother wrapped it," explained Draco, blushing a soft pink. "I told her you were a 17 year old boy and not a 4 year old girl but she didn't seem to know the difference. I said just because you were gay that didn't mean-" Draco broke off and peered intently into Harry's face. "You are gay, aren't you? I don't much care to convert another straight boy, but I can make an exception."  
  
"Yes, I am," said Harry. He scrunched his eyebrows. "Is it difficult? Being out of the closet here? I haven't been open about it before. The people in my old town were pretty conservative."  
  
"It's easy for me," said Draco, very smugly. "My father owns this town and if anyone dares to mess with me there'll be hell to pay."  
  
"Well, it's good that he is so accepting...I guess."   
  
"Yes..." mused Draco, looking thoughtful. "He always has been. Even before I knew I was gay. In the early nineties he tried to introduce legislation legalizing gay marriage. The Republican Party couldn't throw him out fast enough. He's been an Independent ever since."   
  
"He's a politician?"   
  
Draco nodded. "He's a Senator now, I think he is going to have a go at Governor in the next election." Draco grimaced and shook his head. "I hope he doesn't. During election years all these stupid campaigning people invade our house, acting like they own the place. It will be worse if he tries for Governor. As an Independent he has to campaign twice as hard."   
  
"Why doesn't he just join the Democrats?" asked Harry.  
  
"That will be a cold day in hell," said Draco, scoffing. "He may have some liberal ideas but he is a Capitalist through and through. He thinks Democrats are Socialist scum ruining the economy. Well, enough politics." Draco leaned forward and drummed his hands on top of the package. "Open your present."  
  
"I'm not supposed to open presents until after the cake and-"  
  
"Now!"  
  
Harry let out a mock sigh and gingerly began unwrapping the package, first carefully easing off the ribbons.   
  
"That's not how you unwrap a present," declared Draco, reaching forward and wildly tearing the paper away to reveal a plain white box. Once the wrapping and ribbons were cleared away Harry opened the box and pulled out a silver dragon about ten inches in length and 8 inches tall. The dragon's long neck was arched back and its reptilian mouth wide in an eternal roar. Intricately wrought, no detail was spared attention, from its deep-set obsidian eyes to its widespread wings to every individual scale, each but a thin plate of melded silver.   
  
"It's beautiful," said Harry as he ran a hand over the dragon's back. A prickly feeling ran down his spine and the strangest thought came to him. With both hands firmly planted under the dragon Harry lifted the dragon up and presented it to Draco. "But...it's yours, isn't it? It belongs to you."   
  
"Funny you should say that," said Draco, taking the dragon from Harry and inspecting it from all sides. "It's a family heirloom, I think. When I was little I was convinced it belonged to me and played with it behind my father's back. He was furious when he found out and locked it away in a vault. He finally let me have it for my sixteenth birthday. The second I saw you I was reminded of this dragon and thought you should have it."  
  
Draco set the dragon on the table beside Harry. He then laid a hand on each side of Harry's chair and leaned forward. When his face was just scant centimeters from Harry's he asked, "Doesn't such a nice present deserve a nice thank you?"   
  
"Heeeeeelllllllooooo?"  
  
Harry felt the barest whisper of lips before Draco abruptly broke away. Draco glared at the intruder.   
  
"Bad timing, Nymphadora!" exclaimed Draco as the purple haired woman came into view.   
  
"Draco! I didn't know you were invited to this shindig." Tonks eyed them with amused suspicion. "What were you two boys doing in here?"  
  
"Draco was just giving me a birthday present," said Harry, quickly, motioning towards the dragon.   
  
"Your dragon!" cried Tonks, looking at Draco in surprise. "I can't believe you gave him your dragon." She turned to address Harry. "He used to play with it all the time until his father took it away. Why he cried his little eyes out then and that's all he would talk about for months to anyone who would listen. I want my dragon! I want my dragon!"  
  
Draco glowered at Tonks and indignantly said, "I was just a little bo-"   
  
"You were 13!"  
  
"Well, I wasn't crying. I was merely expressing the injustice-"   
  
"I assure you, he was crying," said Tonks to Harry. She reached over and tousled Draco's hair. "It was quite heart wrenching."  
  
Draco lightly fumed and patted his hair back down. "You need to stop taking your hair envy out on me." He sneeringly looked at Tonk's wig. "At least that purple thing is a vast improvement over that pink mess you were wearing last week."   
  
Tonks let out a low chuckle and she wrapped an arm around Draco, pulling him into a one armed hug. "Things never change with you, that's why you're my favorite cousin."   
  
"You're cousins?" inquired Harry.   
  
"Oh yes," said Tonks. "Our mothers were sisters. All part of the noble house of Black. There's a family tree around here somewhere. If Sirius hasn't tossed it."  
  
"Everyone in this godforsaken town is related to each other in some way," said Draco.  
  
"Indeed, you'd think we lived in Appalachia," said Tonks. "Well, we had better go to the back or they'll be sending a search party for the search party. Molly won't let anyone eat until the birthday boy comes out. You could hear Hagrid's stomach rumbling a mile away. It's frightening the children."  
  
"Hagrid is here?" asked Draco, faltering in his step.   
  
"Draco, its time to let go," said Tonks, pulling him towards the back yard.   
  
Harry picked up his dragon and followed them to the back yard. Sirius lifted an eyebrow at Draco's presence but said nothing. Harry started to sit at the table where Sirius, Remus, Tonks, and Hagrid sat but Draco pulled him another table on the opposite side of the yard. Ron, Ginny and the twins soon joined them. Several people came by the table to look at the dragon. Mr. Dumbledore and Mr. Weasley took an especially long time examining the gift.   
  
Throughout the meal Harry became increasingly aware of the tension between Draco and Ron. To the amusement of Charlie, the embarrassment of Harry and the annoyance of Draco, Ron redoubled his attempts to push Harry towards his brother. Even Charlie's protests that he was far too old did little to impede Ron. It wasn't until Mr. Weasley yelled at his youngest son with a vehemence that seemed to surprise the man himself did Ron cease his efforts. Harry only hoped that his potential involvement with Draco would not dampen the blossoming friendship he had with Ron.   
  
After everyone had eaten Harry was pushed to the front to blow the candles on his cake while everyone sang Happy Birthday. George and Fred's rendition was particularly off key and laced with lewd substitutions. Being the guest of honor, Harry was given the first and largest piece of cake. The cake was quite good and Harry was so involved with the task of eating it that he was greatly startled when he felt a warm tongue lash across his cheek.   
  
"You had a bit of icing," explained Draco, patting Harry's cheek with his index finger. "Right there."  
  
"That's what napkins are for," said Ron, with narrowed eyes on Draco.   
  
"Why waste a napkin when I have a perfectly good tongue to do the job?" asked Draco, all innocence.   
  
"Because its sexual harassment, that's why! You can't lick people without their permission," replied Ron. He turned to Harry. "You have to stop him now or else he will start taking all kinds of liberties."  
  
"I don't mind," said Harry, hoping to snuff the impending fight. However, everyone ignored him and the argument escaladed, especially after Remus, Shacklebolt and Tonks were called in for legal definitions of sexual harassment. The three lawyers were of differing opinions and began a very heated debate. Percy nearly broke his neck rushing over to join the dispute. Sirius finally put an end to things by declaring it time for presents.   
  
Everyone gathered around Harry as he opened his presents. He felt a little awkward receiving so many presents from people he really didn't know but that did not stop him from ripping into the gifts with unrestrained glee. He received the type of presents one might expect a teen boy to receive. CDs, movies, clothing and the like. Sirius had gotten him a laptop computer saying he would need it for school. Harry was thanking everyone profusely when Sirius interjected, "You're not done yet!"   
  
He pulled Harry to his feet and led him towards the garage with the party guests following behind. Sirius opened the garage doors with a flourish and inside sat two gleaming motorcycles, one of them covered with a big red bow.   
  
"Wow!" exclaimed Harry as he rushed to the bike with the bow. "Is it really mine?"   
  
"Of course. This one is mine," said Sirius, ginning as he swung a leg over his bike and revved it up. "Prongs and Padfoot ride again!"  
  
"Prongs?" asked Harry.   
  
"Prongs was your father's Marauder nickname," said Sirius. "That was his bike."   
  
Harry's face lit up at that news and he pulled himself onto the bike and settled into the seat. He ran his fingers over the various dials and knobs. "This is so cool."  
  
"Isn't it?" Sirius shut his bike off and came over to Harry. "That is a Harley Davidson Firebolt. It was a part of a limited production. Only 50 of them were made. I never knew how your father afforded one. God knows your Grandfather wouldn't have paid for it. He was so mad when James bought it. He tried to take it away but your Grandmother talked him into letting James keep it. It's been in storage ever since James and Lily died. I had Nicky down at Zabini's fix it up."  
  
"Just you remember to be careful," advised Remus. "Motorcycles can be very dangerous. Sirius and James got themselves in more than a few accidents."  
  
Sirius waved him off. "Just a few cuts and scrapes. We took it like men. Unlike some people who were too scared to even go near a motorcycle."   
  
"Some people value their lives," retorted Remus, not taking Sirius' bait.   
  
"Seeing you on that bike sure does take me back," said Mr. Weasley. Mrs. Weasley pulled up beside him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He looked down at his wife. "It's been so long since we have ridden."   
  
"Arthur, I know what you're thinking. We're too old," said a giggling Mrs. Weasley as Mr. Weasley kissed the top of her head.   
  
"Oh Molly, we're never too old," cooed Mr. Weasley.   
  
The Weasley children, including the older ones, looked completely revolted at their parent's display of affection. Ron and Ginny joined the twins in making retching sounds.   
  
"Anyway," said Mr. Weasley, ignoring his children's disgust. "Remus is right. Do be careful."  
  
"Don't worry, we will be," said Sirius. "We'll start your riding lessons tomorrow, Harry."  
  
"Can't we do it today?" asked Harry, unable to stop himself from eagerly bouncing in his seat.   
  
"Easy tiger, we need still need to get your helmet."  
  
"Please?"  
  
"No!"  
  
After much begging, he and Sirius reached a compromise and Harry was allowed to turn the bike on so that could used to the growling, rumbling machine.   
  
"This feels funny," said Harry as the bike shuddered beneath him.   
  
"You'll get used to it," assured Sirius. He paused and scratched his chin. "Though your father never really did. I don't think he minded. Said the vibrations turned him on."  
  
"Uhhh...I really did not need to know that."   
  
Sirius chuckled and pounded Harry on the back. "Don't spend all afternoon on the bike."   
  
Bored with watching Harry sit on the bike, everyone returned to the backyard with exception of Draco. He looked around the deserted garage with a gleam in his eye and pulled the door shut.   
  
"Wanna take me for a ride?" asked Draco.   
  
"Sure," said Harry, nodding his head back. "Hop on."   
  
Rather than get behind Harry, Draco pulled Harry hands down and climbed on the bike so that he was in the front, facing Harry. He leaned against the bike and draped his arms over the handles.  
  
"Your father was right," said Draco, grinning lecherously. "This is very, ah, stimulating." Draco tilted forward. "Are you feeling stimulated?"   
  
"I might be," croaked Harry, feeling a tightness in his pants and realizing his entire lower half was pressed against Draco's. He automatically scooted back in his seat. Draco inched forward and placed his hands on Harry's naked sholders. His fingers lightly danced over the heated flesh.   
  
"I think you are," said Draco, pressing forward even further, silver eyes shining. "Oh! Why, yes you are, you naughty boy!"  
  
Harry let out a strangled cry and attempted to pull back but Draco had him firmly in his clutches.  
  
"Close your eyes," whispered Draco as his fingers trailed up to Harry's face.   
  
"What?" asked Harry, eyes wide, unable to hear Draco over the roar of the motorcycle.   
  
Draco gently pushed Harry's eyelids down and brushed his fingers against the dark lashes.   
  
"What are you doing?"   
  
"I'm going to kiss you."  
  
"You are?"  
  
"Yes, now hush."  
  
Draco slid his hands to Harry's hair, pulling him forward. Harry licked his lips in anticipation and Draco dove in, capturing Harry's tongue before it could retreat. He sucked long and hard on the wet, wiggling organ, eliciting a whimper from Harry. Encouraged, Draco plunged his tongue between Harry's eager lips. Harry returned the favor and the two boys began a slow exploration, each of them tasting of Mrs. Weasley's chocolate cake.   
  
Feeling rather bold, Harry ran his hands down Draco's back to cup his cheeks, to feel the firm muscles and pull him closer. They broke apart suddenly, both of them panting for air. Harry hadn't even had time to catch his breath before Draco's lips were on his own again, roughly smearing against them. Draco's mouth then traveled down the firm line of Harry's jaw, down the slope of his chin, leaving Harry shivering in the July heat. And feeling the earth move, literally.   
  
The abrupt end of their kiss shocked both boys and they were barely able to steady the motorcycle that had begun to move forward. Once stable, Harry reached behind Draco and turned the bike off.   
  
"They were right," mused Draco. "These are dangerous." He grinned at the shy smile on Harry's flushed face. "What I want to know is how someone as cute as you has gone 17 years without getting kissed?"  
  
"Who says I haven't kissed before?" asked Harry, looking away.   
  
"I can tell," said Draco as he reached up to straighten Harry's tangled hair. Noticing Harry's embarrassment, he continued, "Don't be embarrassed. I like being the first."  
  
"I wasn't, er, bad at it, was I?"  
  
Draco laughed and leaned forward, rubbing his own hardness against Harry's.  
  
"What does that tell you?" breathed Draco into Harry's ear. Draco was immensely pleased with Harry's choked gasp and ran his tongue along the outer shell of Harry's ear. He gave the earlobe a brief nibble and said, "We better go before we start something you're not prepared to finish."  
  
Draco quickly ambled off the bike and headed for the garage door. Harry let out a frustrated sigh and followed him, incredibly grateful for the bagginess of his pants.   
  
Things were winding down in the back yard and several guests had left already, leaving only the Weasleys, Remus, Tonks and oddly enough, the clown who was twisting yet another balloon around Sirius' wrist. Mrs. Weasley was directing her complaining children in a wide scale clean up. Draco surprised everyone by lending a helping hand. He didn't seem like the type to take to manual labor.   
  
Mrs. Weasley ran a tight ship and it only took a mere ten minutes to get everything cleared away and returned to their proper place. The clown, Remus, and Tonks soon left afterwards. As did the Weasleys, except for Ron who was sleeping over.   
  
"I wish I could spend the night," said Draco, finding a moment alone with Harry as Ron went to the Ford Anglia to get his overnight bag.   
  
"You could," said Harry, grinning mischievously. "Sirius won't mind."  
  
"I can't," said Draco, looking unhappy. "Father is having a party tonight and I'm expected to be there."   
  
"That's too bad. Perhaps another time."  
  
"Another time for what?"   
  
Draco and Harry looked over to see Ron frowning at them.   
  
"None of your business, Weasley." Draco turned to Harry and pecked him lightly on the cheek. "I have to go."   
  
"Buh bye, Malfoy," said Ron, overly cheery as he rounded up the front steps to Grimmauld Place and disappeared behind the heavy doors.   
  
Harry stared after him but his attention was brought back to Draco when the boy suddenly grabbed his hand placed a piece of paper in it.   
  
"This is my phone number," said Draco. "Call me soon?"  
  
Harry nodded and watched Draco get into his car and drive off. Once the boy was out of sight Harry entered Grimmauld Place in search of Ron and Sirius. He found them in the kitchen.   
  
"Hey Harry," said Sirius as he reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a bottled beer. He pressed the bottle against his forehead for a few seconds before taking a long swig.   
  
"Can I have one of those?" asked Ron, eagerly.   
  
Sirius hesitated then shrugged. "What the hell, it is Harry's birthday after all." Sirius retrieved two more bottles and tossed one to Harry and Ron. "Just don't tell your mom, Ron. She'd kill me."  
  
"What she don't know won't hurt her," said Ron before enthusiastically downing the beer.   
  
Harry timidly took a drink of the amber liquid. His face scrunched up at the bitterness.  
  
Sirius laughed at Harry and said, "It's an acquired taste."  
  
"I can't believe people actually drink this stuff," said Harry, even though he took another sip, not really wanting to look like a wimp in front of Ron.   
  
By 9 o'clock that night everyone was fairly drunk. Sirius was in the study singing along to his old albums. The sweet sounds of Bette Midler's The Rose drifted throughout the house to the front steps where Harry and Ron nursed their beers, now lukewarm, Harry's tenth and Ron's twelfth.   
  
"God, Sirius has really bad taste in music," said Harry.  
  
"It's not so bad," said Ron as he tried to capture lightening bugs between his hands. "At least he's not making us dance with him anymore."  
  
"So true," agreed Harry, nodding energetically, causing his head to scream with pain. "Oh god, I am never drinking again."  
  
"That's what everyone says."  
  
"I mean it. Besides Sirius said just this once."  
  
"Sirius will let you. He's cool like that." A curious look passed Ron's face. "Have you ever though about, well, you know, with him?"  
  
Harry was scandalized. "Eww! How can you even ask that?"  
  
"Well, you're both gay..."   
  
"So?" shrieked Harry "Plus, he adopted me. That pretty much makes him my father."   
  
"Its not like you're really related."  
  
"Still! Eww!" Harry smiled. "Anyway, I like Draco."  
  
Ron grimaced. "Now that's gross."  
  
"Ron," began Harry, finally asking something that had been bugging him all day. "Why do you seem to hate Draco so much?"  
  
"Harry, you don't know him. Not really," replied Ron, suddenly very sober. "He's an arrogant prick. He thinks just because his father is rich and powerful he can have anything he wants." Ron paused, looking very thoughtful. "Anything at all and he doesn't care who gets hurt in the process."  
  
Harry sighed heavily, not liking Ron's assessment of Draco. "Ron-"  
  
"No, just listen to me, Harry. Malfoy has a reputation. He goes through boys like Kleenex and throws them away just as easily. I just don't want to see you get hurt. You're so innocent and naïve and-"  
  
"I'm not innocent and naïve!" protested Harry.   
  
"Yes, you are. Just be careful with him, okay?"  
  
Harry was about to protest again but looked into Ron's earnest face and merely nodded.  
  
Harry awoke to something firm and rubbery beneath his cheek. He opened one groggy eye to see a white Nike sign emblazoned against the black sole of a shoe. Harry bolted upright and paid dearly for it. He clutched at his pounding head, wondering why he was using Ron's shoes as a pillow. Then it all came back to him, the beer, the Bette Midler, the conversation with Ron, the midnight tequila shots, the Bette Midler. He spotted Ron just a few feet away, uncomfortably curled on a couch, feet dangling off one end.   
  
"Ron! Ron!" called Harry, his voice haggard and rough. "Wake up!"  
  
Ron jerked awake and cautiously sat up. His read hair stuck out everywhere and the nubbly fabric of the couch was imprinted across his cheek. He wiped a string of drool off his chin and squinted at Harry.   
  
"You look like shit."  
  
"You should see yourself," said Harry as he rubbed the gunk out of his eyes, immediately noticing that he forgot to take his contacts out before going to sleep. His eyes burned with revenge. He stumbled to his feet and made his way to his personal bathroom all while tripping over furniture he was positive was not there before.   
  
A half an hour later Harry entered the kitchen freshly showered. He wore his glasses, not daring to even attempt to put in his contacts. Sirius was humming softly as he poured water into the coffee pot. Ron was slumped over the kitchen table, sneering at the disgustingly chipper man. Harry joined Ron in the slumping, and the sneering.   
  
Sirius took one look at them and exploded into laugher, making both boys wince and rub their temples.   
  
"I know what you boys need," said Sirius. He pulled out two coffee mugs and began sprinkling various spices in them, seemingly at random. He filled the cups with coffee and finished it off with a big dollop of Tabasco sauce. Harry and Ron hesitantly took the offered cups. Harry's lips curled in distaste at the pungent odor.  
  
"What is this, Sirius?" asked Harry as he stared into the reddish brown liquid.   
  
"Pepper Up. An old friend taught me how to make it. It will kill any hangover."  
  
"Smells like it would just plain kill you." Ron tapped his cup against Harry's and said, "Bottoms up."  
  
Harry watched Ron swallow the concoction in one big gulp. His face immediately turned a violet red and tears ran down his face. Sirius laughed manically when Ron ran to the kitchen sink and put his entire head under facet, eagerly drinking the gushing water. A minute later he emerged from the facet and leaned against the counter, panting for air, water running down his face. All he could say was, "Damn."  
  
Against his better judgment Harry drank the Pepper Up. After a repeat of Ron's performance he stood next to the boy, dripping wet, and said, "Damn is right."  
  
"But you feel better, doncha?" asked Sirius.   
  
"I would hardly say I felt better," panted Harry.  
  
"It will pass," insisted Sirius. "You guys better go change your shirts. We have to get a motorcycle helmet. Oh and Mr. Dumbledore reminded me that you need to go register for school."  
  
Ron drove Sirius and Harry into Hogsmeade and along the way Harry asked his godfather why he didn't have a car. A blush crept up on Sirius' face.   
  
"Well, I always just rode my motorcycle before I got sent up to Azkaban. I don't exactly know how to drive a car. I took the test after I was released but kinda, er...failed."  
  
Harry snickered and said, "I passed on my first try."   
  
Sirius's blush deepened but he said, "You have a license? Well then, we should get a car. Hagrid's probably tired of hauling our asses everywhere."  
  
They first went to a sporting goods store that had the highly creative name of Quality Sporting Supplies. There, Harry selected a plain black helmet despite Ron and Sirius encouraging him towards the one with the flames etched on the side. Harry wanted to return home immediately so that they could begin their riding lessons but Sirius insisted on swinging by the high school to register for school.   
  
Hogsmeade High wasn't a single building but rather a campus of buildings connected by a complicated series of enclosed walkways and skyways. There were five main buildings, each of them done in a neoclassical style. Four had the words: Gryffindor Hall, Ravenclaw Hall, Hufflepuff Hall, and Slytherin Hall carved into the stone right above the entry doors. The fifth building seemed to be nameless though it looked as if words had been sanded off the stone right above its entry doors. Harry vaguely made out an "M" as they drove pass that building. The buildings were located along one side of a street called Hogwarts Avenue. Across from the buildings sat a small building, a football field and a large parking lot, which Ron pulled into.   
  
"I'm going to go talk to Coach Hooch," declared Ron, as he turned off the rattling Ford Anglia. "Tryouts are next week and there's still a lot of planning to do."  
  
Sirius and Harry nodded and watched Ron practically skip towards the small building. Harry knew that football was made up the majority of Ron's life and he was anxious for the new season to start. Ron had been badgering Harry since day one to try out for the team even though Harry hadn't even touched a football before. Ron assured him that as captain of the team he could get him a place, even if it was just as a benchwarmer.   
  
"Why, you traitorous old mutt!" exclaimed Sirius as he got out of the car. Harry turned to where Sirius was looking but all he got was an eyeful of light as the bright sun reflected off his glasses. Harry shielded his eyes with his hands and saw...a god.  
  
The deity lounged on the flipped open back end of a shining black pickup truck, one jean clad leg bended at the knee, the other swinging precariously over the side. The man lazily stroked the fur of a black dog with one hand while other held a water bottle resting on top of a few inches of exposed stomach where his shirt had ridden up, the flesh taut and tan. He was dressed almost entirely in black, from the ridged felt of his cowboy hat shielding most of the man's face from the harsh sun to the scuffed cowboy boots tipped in tarnished silver. A large silver belt buckle fashioned into entwined snakes completed the ensemble.   
  
At Sirius's approach the man sat up and Harry saw a glistening droplet of water run down his stomach and beneath the band of his jeans. Oh, to be that droplet of water! Harry's entire body clenched at the thought and finding his pants suddenly very snug, he reached into his pocket to discreetly adjust himself. For the second time in the last 24 hours Harry was thankful for baggy pants.   
  
"Something caught your interest, boy?" asked the man, gruffly, though the voice was softened by a faint Texan drawl. Harry jerked his eyes up, shamefully realizing he had been starting at the man's crotch.   
  
"I...I...I saw your water bottle and realized how, ummm, parched I was," said Harry. He bit his lower lip to keep it from trembling.  
  
The man smirked, and as if to taunt Harry, took a very long drink from his bottle. Sirius who had been lavishing loving attention on the dog, finally turned to Harry and said, "Harry, this is Severus Snape, a friend of mine."  
  
"Friends, are we?" asked Severus, skeptically.   
  
Sirius ignored the question and said, "Sev, this is Harry Potter. James and Lily's son."   
  
"I know who he is, Black," said Severus, disdainly, as he flicked the wide brim of his hat back. Harry met glittering eyes, blacker than sin, resting above a sharp hawkish nose. A soft pink tongue darted out of Severus' mouth to lick needlessly at already moist lips. Harry let out a tiny whimper he hoped went unnoticed. Luck was not with him.   
  
"Are you alright, Harry?"   
  
Harry duly nodded at his godfather, not trusting his voice.  
  
"He's a quiet one," said Severus. His head was slightly tilted to the side as his eyes roamed all over Harry. "Look's just like his daddy. Let's hope the similarities end there."  
  
"Be nice, Sev."  
  
"You know I'm never nice."  
  
"That's right. How could I forget that you're prickly, dog stealing bastard?"   
  
"Dog stealing?" Severus arched an eyebrow. "I resent that."  
  
Sirius noticed Harry's confusion and said, "Snuffles here is mine. When I was sent to prison he was supposed to go live with Remus but Severus dognapped him."  
  
"I did no such thing. Snuffles came out of his own free will. Couldn't get rid of him."   
  
"Snuffles hated you. He would never go willingly. You've obviously brainwashed him since he won't come back home."  
  
"He just knows his true master." To prove Severus' point Snuffles leaped from Sirius to lay his head in Severus' lap. Severus smirked at Sirius and patted Snuffles' head.   
  
"Damn mutt," muttered Sirius, glaring at the dog. Sirius abruptly turned on his heels and walked away. "Let's go, Harry!"  
  
Harry quickly followed his godfather but not before giving Snape a sly final once over. Sirius led Harry to the unnamed building and to a large office just off the entry doors. Mr. Dumbledore was alone in the room, fiddling with a FAX machine.   
  
"Come on. Just a little bit further," coaxed Mr. Dumbledore. He let out a loud grunt and jerked away from the machine. "There we go."   
  
He turned and smiled, seeing Sirius and Harry. "I got my beard stuck in the Fax machine," explained Mr. Dumbledore, stroking the long white beard. "Third time this week. The staff likes to make bets." He pointed to a small dry erase board. Apparently Mr. Dumbledore had gotten his beard stuck in the FAX machine no less than ten times last week to the victory of one Ms. Sinistra.   
  
"I must say, Sirius," began Mr. Dumbledore, bringing their attention back to him. "Mrs. McGonagall was sorely miffed that she was not invited to Harry's birthday party. I had to hear about it all morning."  
  
Sirius blanched. "Oh hell, I forgot about her."  
  
Mr. Dumbledore chuckled. "Well, don't tell her that. No lady likes to be forgotten. Why don't you go make amends while I get Harry registered for school. You know it takes awhile. She's over in her office."  
  
As soon as Sirius had left Harry followed Mr. Dumbledore into his private office. It was a large room of old style architecture mixed with modern elements. A fireplace sat along one wall with built in bookcases surrounding it. Only half of them were filled with books. The rest showcased strange silver objects of every shape and size.   
  
"Let me tell you a little history before we get started," said Mr. Dumbledore, as he took a seat behind his desk. A bag of marshmallows sat on the desk and he quickly put them into a drawer. "As you may have learned already, things are done a little differently than in most high schools." He paused then began anew. "Education is not taken very lightly here in Hogsmeade. The town itself was founded by four educators from England in 1806. Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff and Salazar Slytherin. Each of them held fairly radical ideas at the time, particularly, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Their contemporaries felt formal education had no place for women. The four formed a union of sorts and moved to America thinking things would be freer here. But instead they found educators were just as stodgy. So they went westward, towards the frontier. They eventually settled in this area. At the time all of this was wilderness, pretty much in the middle of nowhere but they knew that would soon change as America was rapidly expanding."  
  
Mr. Dumbledore drank from his coffee cup and continued, "All four were quite wealthy and were able to fund the building of a university. They called it Hogwarts University. They wanted Hogwarts to be unparallel to any other, based on their own ideals. Like minded professors and educators were invited to teach, several came, some declined, put off by its isolated location. Many students flocked to the school and in the first few decades Hogwarts enjoyed a great success. But, as it goes, the four founding members really didn't care for each other and fell into much fighting to the determent of the school. After their deaths the remaining administration had a very hard time keeping things together. In the early 1900s, the state took over control of Hogwarts and renamed it Hogsmeade State University."  
  
"During the Depression, as part of President Roosevelt's work program, an entire new campus was built across town. In the spring of 1942, Hogsmeade suddenly found itself without a high school. The furnace had exploded and the school burnt to a crisp. The school board found it more efficient to convert the old university campus into a high school then build a new one. The principal at the time, Phineas Nigellus, perhaps inspired by the four founders, convinced the school board to let him change the way things were done. Rather than teach all the students the exact same thing, students are sorted into four groups, their classes are based on where their strengths and weakness lie. Other factors are considered as well, such as what subjects they are interested in; what they want to do after they graduate."  
  
Mr. Dumbledore suddenly stood up and walked over to a lone computer sitting in a corner he pulled out the chair and motioned for Harry to sit in it. "All students take a test and it decides where you belong. It also creates your class schedule for the year. Go ahead."  
  
Harry began the test and was relieved to see it was mostly an aptitude test rather than SAT-like test he was expecting. Following the aptitude test he was asked a series of questions about what subjects he found most interesting, then came questions about his future plans, and finally he was asked to select classes in order of preference. When he was finished a singer piece of paper oozed out of a printer by Mr. Dumbledore's desk.   
  
"Well this is very rare," he said, looking down at the paper. "It seems that you are equally suited for Gryffindor or Slytherin."  
  
"So can I pick?" asked Harry, remembering that Ron was in Gryffindor.  
  
Mr. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "Why not? But you should know that the arts, literature and languages tend to be emphasized in Gryffindor, and the sciences and math in Slytherin."   
  
Harry nodded and said, "I want to be in Gry-"  
  
"Albus?"  
  
Mr. Dumbledore and Harry looked over to the doorway. Severus leaned across the threshold, a deep scowl plastered on his face.   
  
"Why, hello, Severus." Mr. Dumbledore gestured towards Harry. "This is Harry Potter, a new student. Harry, this is Mr. Snape. He teaches chemistry."  
  
Severus' cold eyes briefly flicked over to Harry. "We've met."   
  
"Now what can I do for you?"  
  
"Coach Hooch has been using my Bunsen Burners to toast marshmallows again," growled Severus. "I insist that she be reprimanded."   
  
"Now, now Severus," began Mr. Dumbledore, casting a guilty look at his desk. "You can't know that for sure."  
  
"It was her," snapped Severus. "She's had it out for me for years."  
  
"Well, without proof..."   
  
"Oh, I'll get your proof." And with that, Severus stormed from the office startling Harry who had been using the time to stare openly at the man.   
  
"I'm sorry you had to witness that, Harry. Mr. Snape is a very...passionate man at times."  
  
"Passionate? I bet." murmured Harry. It took Harry a few seconds to focus and he turned to Mr. Dumbledore, slightly awestruck. "Is he really a teacher here?"  
  
"For over 15 years," replied Mr. Dumbledore. "He is also the coordinator for Slytherin students."  
  
"Is he?" asked Harry, finding this extremely fascinating.   
  
Mr. Dumbledore nodded and asked, "Have you decided where you would like to be placed?"  
  
"Slytherin," answered Harry, very quickly.  
  
"Slytherin, it is."  
  
Thanks for reading! Please review! 


	3. Chapter Three

Title: Repetitions  
  
Pairing: H/D  
  
Rating: PG-13 to R  
  
Warnings: Complete AU, Set in America, Slash, WIP  
  
Summary: Orphaned Harry Potter is adopted by Sirius Black just before his 17th birthday. In his new town he begins a relationship with Draco Malfoy and tries to uncover the mystery of his parent's death.

* * *

A very pleased smile rested upon Harry's face when he emerged from Dumbledore's office. Not only had he gotten Severus for Homeroom but he had also gotten the last spot in his Honors Chemistry class. Harry took a moment to thank the Dursleys. For if it hadn't been for them Harry would have never spent hours locked in his room with nothing to do but study, thus enabling him to take the advanced class.   
  
Sirius arrived five minutes later with a stern looking lady introduced as Mrs. McGonagall, the English teacher. For the millionth time that week Harry was given a thorough look over and was told how much he looked like his father. After a few moments of polite conversation he and Sirius headed back to the parking lot.   
  
"Took ya long enough," proclaimed Ron as he leaned against his car. "Did Dumbledore give you that long spiel about the founding of Hogsmeade?"  
  
Harry nodded and pulled out his schedule. "I'm in Slytherin."   
  
Ron made a face and yanked Harry's schedule from him. "Yuck! Now you have to take all those math and science classes. Oh! We have art and gym class toget-What is Sirius doing?"   
  
Harry quickly turned, expecting Sirius to be behind him, instead he saw Sirius slowly inching towards Severus' big pick-up truck with his head swinging around as though he were looking for something.  
  
"What are you doing, Sirius?" called Harry.   
  
"Ron, get the car started. Harry, you open the back door and get in the front seat," replied Sirius in a loud whisper. Harry and Ron hesitantly complied and once the two boys were settled in the car, Ron asked, yet again, "What in the hell is he doing?"  
  
Harry shrugged and watched in confusion as Sirius approached the passenger door of the truck. He reached into partially open window and a few seconds later opened the door. Chilling realization dawned on Harry as Sirius waved his hands in a come hither motion. Harry slammed his hand against his forehead. "Oh shit..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Sirius is stealing Snuffles."   
  
"What's a Snuffles?"  
  
"Mr. Snape's dog."  
  
Ron looked at Harry, eyes as large as saucers. "You're shitting me, right?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"But...but that man is so mean and he will kill-" Ron jerked his head out of his window and frantically yelled, "Sirius, you can't steal Mr. Snape's dog!"  
  
"It's...not...his...dog!" panted Sirius who by now had taken a more forceful approach and was attempting to pull Snuffles out of the truck.   
  
"He's lost his freaking mind!" exclaimed Ron.  
  
Harry was inclined to agree. Especially after Sirius leaped into the cab of the truck and reappeared a minute later with Snuffles firmly gripped in his arms. Sirius awkwardly carried the yelping dog across the parking lot, pausing every second or so to strengthen and adjust his hold. Harry might have found the sight rather funny were it not for the gravity of the situation. Both Harry and Ron twisted in their seats to stare open-mouthed at Sirius as he pushed Snuffles into the car  
  
"Sirius," begun Harry. "This is going to far. You can't steal Snuffles!"  
  
"Especially not when he belongs to Mr. Snape!" piped in a hysterical Ron. "For God's sake, he tried to kill a student in my freshman year for accidentally touching his damn hat. What do think he gonna do when he finds-"  
  
"You exaggerate, Ron," interrupted Sirius, calmly as he patted the whimpering dog's head. "And I'm not stealing him. Snuffles has belonged to me since I was in college. I'm merely bringing him home."  
  
Harry and Ron exchanged a look. Biting his lip, Harry turned to Sirius and tried a new approach. "Sirius, I really think he wants to stay with Mr. Snape. I mean look at him, he's crying."  
  
Sirius looked into Snuffles watery eyes and sighed heavily. "He just has to get used to me again."  
  
"But-"   
  
"Ron, we had better going," said Sirius. "Severus will be back soon."  
  
"But Sirius-"  
  
"Don't you 'but Sirius' me, Harry. Snuffles is coming home and that's final." The look of grim determination on Sirius's face left little room for argument.   
  
They had just passed through downtown Hogsmeade when Sirius suddenly groaned and dug into his back pocket, pulling out a black leather wallet.   
  
"Shit. I forgot about Remus' wallet. He left it at the birthday party and I told him I would return it today."  
  
Ron backtracked a few blocks and pulled alongside Lupin, Shacklebolt and Tonks. Sirius handed the wallet over to Harry asking him to take it to Remus, as he should stay with the still whimpering Snuffles.   
  
As he entered the law firm Harry braced himself for an olfactory assault that was not forthcoming. The new paint smell had dissipated and Harry inhaled with relief. A deep chuckle sprang from a corner.   
  
"Yup. You can breathe in here now," said Shacklebolt from were he stood next to a filing cabinet. "So what can I do for you, Harry? Here to see Remus?"  
  
Harry nodded and Shacklebolt gestured towards a hallway. "He's back in the staff room. It's the last door on the right."   
  
Harry started to walk down the hall when a door opened and out stormed Tonks, now in a long black wig reminiscent of Cher in her 'Sonny and Cher' days. Remus bolted out of the same room and twisted Tonks around so that she was facing him.   
  
"Leave me alone, Remus!" shouted Tonks as she pushed Remus away and stomped deeper into the hall. Harry glanced nervously over to Shacklebolt who gave a wry grin and said, "They fight like cats and dogs all the time."   
  
Harry shifted on his feet and said, "Perhaps I should-"  
  
"Just listen to me, damn it." Remus' voice exploded through the office but his touch was gentle when he gripped Tonk's wrists in his hands to hold her still.   
  
"No, I've already given up my clients. I'm not doing any more."   
  
"I just want..." Remus broke off and pressed Tonks against the wall. The two stared at each other with a strange calmness before slamming their mouths together in a violent kiss.   
  
Harry let out a load gasp and the wallet he carried tumbled to the floor. Remus and Tonks seemed completely oblivious to Harry's presence and continued kissing. He stood there in shock but Harry's trance-like state was soon broken by an urgently shouted, "Harry!"   
  
He jerked around to the sound was greeted by a very panicked Ron. Ron ran over and grabbed Harry's arm. "We have to hurry! We just saw Mr. Snape's truck!"  
  
Still in shock, Harry allowed himself to be dragged out of the law office. It wasn't until they reached the street that Harry broke from his reverie and tried to pull away. "Wait! Wait!"   
  
"C'mon Harry!" yelled Sirius, who had his entire upper half hanging out the car window as he looked up and down the street.   
  
It was not their persistence but rather Severus' big truck barreling down the road that lit a spark under Harry. He hadn't even fully gotten into the car before Ron was pealing off.   
  
"Oh god. Oh god. Oh god," droned Ron as he drove down the streets of Hogsmeade. "What are we going to do?"   
  
"Just drive!" commanded Sirius. "He won't try anything as long as we stay in Hogsmeade."   
  
And indeed, both Ron and Severus strictly obeyed the speed limits as they circled the streets of Hogsmeade. Severus maintained a very close distance often times no more than a few feet from Ron's car. When he that close, Severus would lift his fist and shake it menacingly at them. Harry spent the time staring hopelessly at Sirius, the scene at Remus' law firm repeating itself in his head.   
  
"Shit, Ron, you better head towards the river," said Sirius, as they passed the post office for the fourth time. "Sheriff Umbitch is getting suspicious."   
  
Harry followed Sirius' gaze to where a squat, dumpy looking woman with dark curly hair and toad-like face stood next to a police car. Donned in an ill-fitting tan uniform, she twisted her hat in her hands and eyed Ron's car warily.   
  
"Fucking HELL!" sobbed Ron as he turned onto a side street and drove towards the river. Severus followed, of course, increasing his speed as they drove further and further away from downtown Hogsmeade. Finally, they reached a long stretch of deserted highway with nothing but rows of corn on one side and the murky waters of the Mississippi River on the other.   
  
"Speed up, Ron!" shrieked Sirius. "He's gaining on us!"  
  
"No!" cried Ron, even as he accelerated the car. "We can't run forever. I-I haven't got much gas and-LET'S JUST GIVE HIM THE DAMN DOG BACK!"  
  
"Never!" Sirius pulled Snuffles into a tight hug. "He'll have to pull this dog from my cold dead body."  
  
That's when they heard the gunshot. Everyone screamed and slouched in their seats. The car violently swerved to the right, grazing the first layer of corn. A stalk of corn flew into the car and popped Harry right in the face. Harry glared at the offending stalk before throwing it back out the window as Ron attempted to steer the car back onto the road.   
  
"What are you doing?" asked Sirius, as Ron brought the car to a stop.   
  
Ron answered with unintelligible blubbering.   
  
"Sirius...He shot at us," said Harry, attempting to be lone voice of reason as he cowered in the space beneath the dashboard. "We can't-"  
  
"He didn't shoot at us," said Sirius, insanely calm as he petted Snuffles. "That was just a warning shot. Severus would never-"  
  
Three shots. Right in succession. Two of them hit the back tires and the car abruptly sunk, jerking everyone back. The third hit Ron's side mirror. Ron's mouth was completely stretched open, his face scrunched up as he stared at the obliterated mirror. He turned to Harry, high pitched choking sounds spewing forth.   
  
"Go, Ron go!" insisted Sirius. Ron shook his head violently; he raised trembling hands to the steering wheel and gripped it tightly as he looked in the rearview mirror. Harry took the moment to take charge. "Listen, Sirius, this what we are going to do. You are going to open the door and let Snuffles out."  
  
"Oh fuck, he's coming," whispered Ron.   
  
Breathing loudly, Harry looked out of his side mirror and saw Severus walking towards them, a long barrel shotgun slung over his shoulder.   
  
"Go Ron!" repeated Sirius, urgently.  
  
"But my car..." trailed Ron. He resumed his blathering.   
  
"I'll buy you a new car. Just drive!"   
  
"No shit?" asked Ron, suddenly very composed and perking in his seat.   
  
"Yes! Now drive!"   
  
Ron did not need any further encouragement. He slammed on the accelerator creating a shower of sparks as the back end drudged against the asphalt. Harry remained squatted underneath the dashboard with his head banging uncomfortably against the glove department.   
  
Unfortunately, Ron did not get very far and the car completely died not even 100 yards later.   
  
"Fuck!" yelled Sirius. "Roll up your windows and lock the doors!"   
  
Against his better judgment, Harry did just that. He was sorely tempted to open his door and release the trapped dog but seeing his Godfather's fanatical face quickly disabused him of the notion. And he didn't want to cause Sirius any suffering seeing that others were doing that quite enough. Feeling a surge of resent towards Remus and Tonks, Harry pushed the lock down with much greater force than necessary.   
  
Severus approached the car and tapped the barrel of his gun against Sirius window. "Let the dog out, Black." Came Severus' muted voice as he sneered at Sirius through the glass.   
  
"I will not!" said Sirius, gripping Snuffles even closer.   
  
"You know I won't hesitate to blow a whole through this window."   
  
Sirius smirked at Severus. "No, you won't! You won't risk hitting Snuffles."   
  
Severus returned the smirk and brought the back end of his gun to the window. He slammed it a few times causing the window to crack but not completely break.   
  
"They're both fucking crazy!" declared Ron, giving Harry an incredulous look. "All this over a damn dog!"  
  
"Such fowl language, Mr. Weasley," said Severus in a stern teacher-y type of voice. "That will be two detentions when school resumes. Another ten to you both for helping this mad man steal my dog."  
  
"You can't do that!" Ron looked over at Harry. "He can't do that, can he?"   
  
Harry shrugged helplessly. "How am I supposed to know?"   
  
Severus continued pounding his gun against the window and Sirius pushed himself against the opposite end of on the car. Snuffles was yapping behind him, very excited at seeing Severus. Finally, Severus managed to crack the window enough that he was able to push the glass in making it fall into the car. He reached around the shards that remained in the window, unlocked the car and pulled the door open. Pointing his gun at Sirius, he calmly said, "Let him out."   
  
"Over my dead body!" hissed Sirius, glaring at Severus.   
  
Severus grinned maliciously and bent into the car. He pressed the tip of the gun under Sirius' chin. "You've already pushed me enough this week, Black. Do not try my patience any longer. Let. Him. Out."   
  
"You won't do it," said Sirius, with great confidence.   
  
Severus pumped the gun and he nodded in Harry's direction. "Think of the boy, Black. You're no good to him dead. He'll have to go back to those people."   
  
"We both know you're not going to shot me so you might as well-"   
  
Everyone but Severus screamed when the gunshot sounded in the car. Harry frantically leaped up to look over his seat, terrified of what he might see. Sirius lay there, clutching his crotch, staring crossed-eyed at the smoke curling up from the seat where Severus had blown a hole right between his legs.   
  
"I can't believe you did that!" cried Sirius in a high, shrill voice. Snuffles managed to claw his way out from behind Sirius and leaped at Severus who pulled him out of the car and calmly walked away. Sirius immediately scrambled out of the car.   
  
"Come back, Snuffles!" called Sirius. Neither Severus nor Snuffles looked back. Sirius fell to the ground and sat cross-legged on the highway, wistfully staring after Severus' truck as it made a u-turn and headed back towards Hogsmeade. Ron and Harry looked at each other and slowly got of the car.   
  
Harry stared at Sirius sadly and sat next to him. "Sirius, maybe we can get another-"  
  
"I don't want another dog, Harry," said Sirius, quietly. He continued in a much louder, resentful voice. "I raised that damn mutt from the second he was born. He was such a tiny little puppy, no bigger than a mouse. Even his mother didn't want him and I had to feed him for weeks with just a little tube. Everyone said just let him die. Including that BASTARD Severus! That dog wouldn't even be alive today if weren't for me and this is how he repays me."  
  
A look of righteous anger passed Sirius' face and he shook his head. "It's just the principle of the matter, you know?"  
  
Sirius looked up expectantly at Harry who, in turn, dutifully nodded. Sirius stood up and slapped the dust off the back of his jeans. He headed back towards the car and grimaced when he saw the blasted tires.   
  
"Eh..." He began uncertainly. "Did I really tell Ron I would buy him a new car?"   
  
"You sure did!" spoke up Ron, very elated.   
  
Sirius' grimace deepened and he sighed heavily. "Alright, everyone get what you want to keep out of the car. Now, this is what we are going to tell Molly..."   
  
Harry stood there holding his brand new helmet under one arm and the papers he had gotten from the high school under the other as he watched the back end of the Ford Anglia plunge deeper and deeper into the Mississippi river. After a large flurry of bubbles the car had completely disappeared. Ron gave the car a stoic salute. "Good riddance to bad rubbish!"   
  
"Well, that's that," said Sirius, he motioned up the road. "Hog's Head should be just a mile up that way. We can hitch a ride with the Thestrals."   
  
"Hell yeah!" exclaimed Ron. He grinned widely at Harry as they followed Sirius up the road. "God, I love Sirius," he said, completely forgetting that he had declared the man certifiably insane not even 30 minutes ago.   
  
Harry was extremely quiet as they walked towards Hogs Head. Now that the ordeal with Snuffles was over, he couldn't help but fully think about Remus and Tonks. He was at a loss over what to do. Did he tell Sirius he had seen them kissing? Did he confront Remus? Did he try to pretend it never happened? Ron aptly filled Harry's silence; chatting incessantly about the exact type of car he wanted.  
  
Hog's Head was a very grubby looking bar situated on the outskirts of a sprawling industrial park. A rusty old Cadillac was the only car in the small crowded parking lot. The remaining slots were filled with about 15 motorcycles, each them of differing makes and models but every one of them had strange winged horses with dragon-like heads and skeletal bodies airbrushed on the peanut tanks.   
  
The inside of Hog's Head was even grubbier than the outside and consisted of two rooms. The front room was completely empty save for a very thin old man with a long gray beard wiping down a chipped and scarred counter. He reminded Harry of a grungy Mr. Dumbledore.   
  
"Hey, no kids allowed in here," said the man in a gravelly voice.  
  
"We won't be long, Aberforth," replied Sirius. "I just need to talk to Tenebrus."  
  
"Still, better make them wait outside," countered Aberforth. "Umbridge has been breaking my balls all month. Last thing I need is for her to come in here and find under aged kids."  
  
Sirius motioned for Harry and Ron to go outside as he headed for a door where loud laughter and music escaped from the closed room. Harry and Ron returned to the parking lot. Ron immediately picked up his car talk, asking Harry if he should get his soon-to-be-new-Porsche-Mercedes-or-BMW in red or black. Harry, distracted by thoughts of Remus and Tonks, did not answer; instead he stared off into space focusing mindlessly at a blue bird drinking from a puddle. That was, until Ron leaned over, bringing his face in Harry's direct line of sight causing him to start slightly.   
  
"You okay? You're just kinda...I dunno...spacey."   
  
"Yeah, I'm okay," said Harry, absently. He wondered if he should tell Ron. Maybe he would know what to do.   
  
"Are you sure?" Ron looked very uneasy. "Are you thinking about your parents?"  
  
"What? Oh...no, it's not that. It's just..."  
  
Harry trailed off, hearing the door to Hog's Head open. Sirius walked out, animatedly talking to a very large beefy older man with a completely baldhead and a magnificent handlebar moustache. He wore jeans and a black t-shirt with the sleeves cut off revealing sun burnt arms covered in various tattoos. Harry noticed that one of them was the very same strange horse that decorated the motorcycles.   
  
"Harry, Ron, this is Tenebrus and these-" Sirius gestured towards a group of people who had spilled out of the bar behind him, each of them clad in varying levels of denim and leather. "-are the Thestrals."  
  
"So you're Harry. Heard all about you..." said Tenebrus, looking at him in that accessing way Harry had become accustomed to in the past few days. "God, you look just like-"  
  
"My father?" supplied Harry. Tenebrus let out a gruff laugh and said, "I wasn't gonna say that but now that you mention it." He raised his hand in a waving motion. "Let's ride!"  
  
For the next minute or so the air was filled with rumbling and growling motorcycles as the Thestrals brought their machines to life. Sirius sat behind Tenebrus and Ron quite happily slid behind a very tan, bleached blonde female in cut-off jean shorts and a leather vest. He wrapped his arms around her waist.   
  
"Watch it, Gingersnaps!" growled Tenebrus over roar of the bikes. "Those who manhandle my woman find themselves with nothing to manhandle with."   
  
The female laughed as Ron quickly moved his hands to a more modest place. Harry eyed the remaining Thestrals nervously as he put on his helmet. He rolled up his school papers and pushed them deep into his pockets. He finally approached a muscular black man with a green bandana wrapped around long dreadlocks. The man smiled encouragingly at him and nodded for Harry to come over. "Hang tight," The man instructed as he wheeled the bike forward.   
  
And off they went. All of Harry's previous concerns and distractions momentarily subsided as he gave into the exhilaration of riding with the Thestrals. In the blur of wind and countryside, Harry occasionally got a glimpse of Ron who looked equally thrilled with his body pressed close against the blonde. Catching Harry's eye, Ron slowly nodded his head and flashed a thumbs up sign. The ride was much slower, though none less exciting, as they traveled through the streets of Hogsmeade.   
  
Soon, far too soon for Harry, they were on the familiar road that led up to Grimmauld Place. The Thestrals lined their bikes up on the front lawn and Harry begrudgingly got off the bike. The ground felt shaky underneath him as adrenaline rushed through his veins. Ron ran over to Harry with look of pure ecstasy etched on his face. It matched Harry's own.   
  
"That was awesome!" Ron stomped the ground for emphasis. "Fucking awesome!"  
  
Sirius invited the Thestrals to stay for lunch and quickly ordered several pizzas. As they waited for the food to arrive Sirius told the Thestrals about Harry's Harley Davidson Firebolt causing a mass exodus to the garage. The Thestrals surrounded the bike eyeing it with much approval. Tenebrus rolled the Firebolt out to the front and fired it up.   
  
"You hear that rumble?" he asked, looking over at Harry with great seriousness. Harry felt as though his life depended on the way he answered. "Yeah?"  
  
Tenebrus revved the bike up. "That is how you know you're riding a Hog. Don't no other bike sound like that."   
  
The clustered Thestrals all grunted and murmured in agreement. Tenebrus shut the bike off and lovingly ran his hands down the bike's tank. "This is a very sweet scoot, ya got here." He looked over at Harry, a deadly glint in his eye. "I'm going to consider it a personal insult if you don't take care of it."   
  
Harry gulped loudly. Tenebrus' statement unleashed a series of speeches about proper motorcycle maintenance. Every Thestral had something to say about it and each them were very adamant about their convictions. Harry looked over at Sirius, slightly overwhelmed. Sirius merely laughed and told Harry to pay close attention, that he would need to know it all.   
  
The pizzas soon arrived and abruptly ended the lectures. The delivery guy took one fearful look at the assorted bikers and did not wait around long enough to get his tip. The tables and chairs from Harry's birthday party were retrieved from the garage except this time they were placed in the frown lawn. Ron managed to procure a spot right next to the bleached blonde, who Harry learned was named Crystal, and flirted shamelessly with her whenever Tenebrus was out of earshot. The fact that Crystal was well into her forties and attached to a very intimidating biker did not seem to hinder Ron's attentions at all.   
  
"Tenebrus is coming this way," lied Harry, whispering in Ron's ear. Ron immediately scooted away from Crystal and anxiously looked around. He punched Harry's shoulder, realizing he was in no danger. Harry's entire body shook with silent laughter, it came to a sudden still as he saw Remus' car drive up to the house. Harry walked over to where Sirius stood in deep conversation with Jackson, the dreadlocked man Harry had ridden with. A sense foreboding doom twisted itself in Harry's stomach. He stood in front of Sirius, wanting to block him from Remus' view even though Harry knew it really wouldn't accomplish anything.   
  
Harry still hadn't decided what to do about Remus' betrayal but he couldn't bring himself to do nothing. So he stood there jumping in front of Remus, glaring at the man whenever he tried to capture Sirius' attention.   
  
"What's the matter with you, Harry?" asked the frustrated lawyer.   
  
"Nothing," replied Harry, very curtly.   
  
"Hey! What's going on?" asked Sirius, finally noticing Remus' arrival.   
  
"That's what I would like to know," said Remus. "Kinglsey said that Harry was acting strange in the office when he saw me kiss Tonks and then Ron Weasley stormed in and dragged him out screaming something about Severus Snape."   
  
Harry was shocked; he couldn't believe that Remus just outright admitted to kissing Tonks. Sirius' reaction surprised him even further.   
  
"Never mind Severus Snape," said Sirius, quickly. "You were kissing Tonks? Good job!" Sirius pounded Remus on the shoulder.  
  
"Don't you care?" asked Harry, his eyebrows knitted in confusion.   
  
"Care about what?"   
  
"About Remus kissing Tonks!"  
  
"Why would I-oh shit!" Sirius erupted into loud cackles that drew the attention of everyone at Grimmauld Place. "Harry, Harry, Harry..." said Sirius between breathless chuckles. "Remus and I are NOT together."   
  
"But I thought-"   
  
"I am not gay!" declared Remus, staring at Harry in wonder. "I am very straight. Very, very, very straight, thank you very much!"   
  
"Got enough verys in there?" Sirius' laughing renewed tenfold. It was a full minute before he was able to compose himself. "So why did you think Remus were together, Harry?"   
  
Harry stood there, his face bright red and feeling very stupid as he looked back and forth between Remus and Sirius. He was aware that every single person there was waiting for his answer. "Well," he hesitantly began. "Remus stays over a lot and I saw you hugging and..." Harry then realized he really had no concrete reason to believe that Remus and Sirius were lovers.   
  
"Oh...that..." said Sirius, suddenly very grim. "See, Tonks and Remus here are married, or at least they used to be. Been married and divorced twice already. Even though they are divorced they still live together and Remus stays with me when Tonks goes for her chemo treatments. She's, ah, dying of breast cancer."  
  
"She's not dying, damn it!" interjected Remus with great force causing Harry and Sirius to flinch. "She'll be fine. At least she would be is she would quit acting like it not even happening. She thinks she can do what ever the hell she wants. She needs to stay at home and rest but no! Not Nymphadora Tonks!"   
  
This was obviously a favored rant of Remus' and he continued in a similar vein for several minutes. Sirius managed to calm him down somewhat and Remus stalked over to tree stump and kicked at it madly.   
  
"That was a really bad choice of words," admitted Sirius, looking very shamed as he continued his explanation. "Remus doesn't like to stay at their house alone when she getting treatments so he comes here. Tonks won't let him come to the hospital with her. That hug you saw was probably just me comforting him."   
  
"Oh," Harry said meekly. He felt horrible and went to apologize to Remus. Remus had calmed down considerably and brushed aside Harry's apologies saying he had no need to apologize for a little misunderstanding. He smiled weakly at Harry. "Really, no harm done. It will cheer Tonks up when I tell her about it. She was very worried about you." Remus laughed. "No wonder you looked like you wanted kill me."   
  
Harry smiled shamefacedly and returned to where he had sat next Ron. Remus decided to stay for lunch. It wasn't long before he brought up Severus again.   
  
"Really, Remus, it was nothing," said Sirius. "We just had a little disagreement over Snuffles' living arrangements."   
  
Ron nearly choked on his pizza. "He calls that a little disagreement?"   
  
"I can't believe you're still chasing after that cowboy," said Jackson. "You don't want to get mixed up with that type."   
  
Sirius snorted. "Says the biker. Besides," A coy smile fluttered across his smug face, his words fraught with meaning, "Who says I'm still chasing him?"  
  
Harry's mouth fell open, Ron's soon followed. Their partially chewed bites of pizza rolled out of their mouths and dropped to the table in rather disgusting looking balls of mushed crust and cheese.   
  
"Does that mean what I think that means?" Ron asked Harry after several seconds of awe-struck contemplation. Harry made a choking sound and nodded.   
  
"Damn...Mr. Snape is gay?" Ron's eyebrows were pressed together as he tried to process this fantastical bit of information. A similar look rested on Harry's face, though he looked far happier about it. Ron stood up and looked over at Sirius. "But he tried to kill you!"  
  
Sirius snickered. "That's just foreplay."  
  
"I'd hate to see what you do as the main act," said Remus.   
  
"I wouldn't mind," said Harry, dreamily.   
  
Thankfully, only Ron heard him and the red-headed boy shuddered. Even as Ron attempted to get the images of Severus and Sirius together out of his head, Harry embraced them fully, only substituting himself as Severus' lover. He felt pangs of guilt, not only for lusting after Sirius' apparent boyfriend but also because it somehow seemed as though he was cheating on Draco. Which was right ridiculous when he thought about it, after all, they had only shared one kiss and hadn't even gone on a date.  
  
After everyone had finished eating, Remus returned to his office. The Thestrals stuck around for Harry's riding lessons, often shouting out tips and instructions. Mostly they laughed at Harry when he did something horribly wrong and went tumbling to the ground. Harry felt incredibly inept around all the experienced bikers. Ron watched the proceedings with much jealousy. That was, until he noticed Tenebrus was greatly distracted and he resumed his courting of a very amused Crystal. So enamored was Ron, that he did not notice Tenebrus' looming presence until the biker picked him up and easily tossed him into a pile of dried leaves.   
  
The Thestrals left a couple hours later with promises to return tomorrow to help Sirius teach Harry the ways of the biker. Though their help mainly consisted of showing off their own skills and mocking Harry in his frequent failed attempts to control the Firebolt.   
  
The lesson ended completely when Mrs. Weasley arrived with Ginny a half hour later in a white minivan to continue cleaning Grimmauld Place. She immediately noticed the missing Ford Anglia. Sirius gave Ron and Harry a quelling look as he step forward to present their explanation.  
  
"You see, Molly, Ron and Harry here," Sirius gestured towards Ron and Harry. "Decided to give me a driving lesson-You know what a horrible driver I am-and well, I was driving along the expressway down by the river, doing quite well, I must say, when a big black dog darted out onto the road. I, ah, lost control of the car and drove it into the Mississippi."   
  
"We barely escaped with our lives!" Ron added fervently, eliciting a glare from Sirius before he turned back to Mrs. Weasley with a sheepish smile.   
  
Mrs. Weasley bought their story hook, line and sinker and spent several minutes examining Ron and Harry for injuries. She admonished Sirius and made him promise to never involve her son in driving lessons ever again. Initially, Mrs. Weasley refused Sirius' offer of a new car saying the car wasn't worth much to start with. It was only after much whining from Ron and guilty insistence on Sirius' part that she relented and the cleaning of Grimmauld Place was abandoned in favor of buying Ron's new car.   
  
Ron got not the Porsche, the Mercedes, nor the BMW he had wanted. Ron's new car wasn't even red or black. In the end, Ron received a forest green Ford Escort. A nice, sensible car in Mrs. Weasley's estimation, that wasn't hard on gas or insurance. The car was brand spanking new, which greatly eased Ron's disappointment.   
  
Sirius looked greatly aggrieved and cursed Severus Snape under his breath as he wrote a large check out to a very happy salesman.   
  
"This has been the best day of my life," said Ron as he sat in his new car, drinking in the new car scent with a rapturous look on his face. Ginny Weasley glowered from where she stood next to her mother's minivan, declaring it completely unfair that Ron had already gotten two cars when she had been 16 for months and hadn't gotten a single one. Ron stuck his tongue out at her and patted the car as Mrs. Weasley and Sirius finished filling out the paperwork. Ginny made a very rude gesture and huffily got into the minivan, slamming the door shut.   
  
Once everything was settled Mrs. Weasley, Sirius and Ginny returned to Grimmauld Place without them as Ron decided they needed to go joy riding for a bit. Though Ron's definition of joy riding was driving up and down the same strip of road several times in succession. Harry noticed many other cars doing the same thing.   
  
"This is kinda boring," said Harry as they turned around in a bowling alley parking lot for the eighth time.   
  
"Everyone does it," said Ron, shrugging. "We turn around at the bowling alley and then drive the strip and then circle the Tastee Freeze and then, well, drive the strip..."   
  
"But that's stupid! What's the point? You're just wasting gas!"   
  
"It's all about seeing and being seen," replied Ron, as if that was enough justification for the incredibly repetitious activity. "Just one more time then we need to get gas."   
  
"I wonder why..." said Harry as they circled the Tastee Freeze, yet again.   
  
Ron disdainly eyed the gas gauge. "You'd think they would at least give you a full tank of gas."  
  
One more time actually turned into three more times with Ron trying to grab the attention of a car full of giggling girls who had also taken it upon themselves to drive the strip. He eventually gave up and to Harry's relief turned down a side road and into a combination auto mechanic's garage/gas station. A large sign declared the place to be Zabini's Garage.   
  
"A little help here, please?" Ron called out, proudly, to a short, brown haired boy sitting upon a stack of tires, deeply engrossed in a book and smoking a cigarette. The boy wore extremely baggy jeans that hug very low on his hips showing several inches of red boxers and an oversized black t-shirt with a picture of Tupac Shakur on the front. A baseball cap, along with the book covered most of the boy's face. Without looking up, the boy raised his middle finger then used it to point at a sign that read: Self Serve.   
  
"Blaise! Come see my new car." said Ron, exasperated. Blaise finally got up and smirked as he sauntered towards Ron's car.  
  
"Where's the Anglia?" asked Blaise. Harry then realized, with some surprise, that if the throaty voice and the mounds under the t-shirt were any indication, he was actually a she.   
  
This was confirmed a mite second later when a swarthy man in grease-splattered blue coveralls came out of the garage and yelled, "Damn it, girl, I told you about smoking around the pumps."   
  
He yanked the cigarette from Blaise's mouth and inserted it his own. "New car, Weasley?" he asked, idly leaning on one of the pumps as he smoked Blaise's cigarette.  
  
"Yup!" said Ron as he got out the Escort. Harry, likewise, got out of the car and smiled shyly at Blaise and the man. Ron continued, "The Anglia is at the bottom of the Mississippi, courtesy of Sirius Black."   
  
"No shit?" asked the man. "How the hell did he manage that?"   
  
Ron looked over at Harry. "Eh, Harry and I tried to teach how to drive."   
  
The man howled with laughter. "Oh, wait until I see Sirius. He's never gonna live this down. So you're Harry, huh? I'm Nicky. I fixed your Firebolt up last week. That's a fine machine..." The man scratched at his throat as he recollected the Firebolt. "Fine, fine machine. If she gives you any trouble bring her in again."  
  
Nicky returned to the garage and as soon as he was gone Blaise turned to Harry with a very amused look. "Harry Potter! I've heard all about you!" she said, smirking.   
  
"You have?" asked Harry, feeling very put off by her gaze, especially after she walked in circles around him, examining him from every angle.   
  
"Unn-huh," she murmured. "You're Draco's new meat. Some of us have a bet going on how long you'll last. I gave you two weeks. Don't let me down." Blaise finished that last statement by pounding roughly Harry on the back causing him to stumble slightly.  
  
"Harry is not Malfoy's anything," said Ron, frowning at Blaise as he pumped the gas. "Are you, Harry?"  
  
"Uh, no, not really," spluttered Harry. Though he would like to be...maybe. The more he learned about Draco the more he wondered if it would be wise to pursue anything with him. It was true that Draco made feel...things, but he did not want to be just another name in long list of names.   
  
"Really? That's not what I heard." Blaise's eyes sparkled with mischievous delight as she reached into her deep pockets and pulled out a cell phone. She pushed a button and brought it to her ear. "Hey Millie," she said as she returned to her spot on the tires. "You know that bet we have about Draco Malfoy and his new friend, yeah, well, I just happened..."  
  
Harry strained to hear her words, wondering exactly what had been said about him.   
  
"Don't pay any attention to her, Harry," said Ron, noticing Harry's pensiveness.   
  
Harry shrugged dejectedly and walked into the gas station section of Zabini's Garage to find out where the rest room was. The lady behind the counter gave him a key attached to a hubcap and directed him to a door in the back. When he had returned, Ron was at the front counter paying for the gas.   
  
"There goes the last of my allowance," said Ron, morose. "Give me that." Ron took the hubcap and key. "I'll be out in a sec."  
  
As Harry headed back towards Ron's car he heard Blaise's loud voice say, "I got 20 bucks that says Draco gets him in less than a week."   
  
Harry's face burned with embarrassment, painfully aware of what Blaise was betting on. He walked around the gas pumps so he would not have to pass the girl. Distracted, Harry bumped right into the man.   
  
"Oh, sorry!" said Harry as he stepped back and adjusted his glasses, which had become skewed.   
  
"That's quite alright," came the polite voice. Harry looked up and astonished to see an older man in a very old-fashioned sherry colored suit complete with a neatly tied cravat. A top hat rested apon his head and the man promptly removed it as he bowed to Harry. "Dedalus Diggle at your service. And you are?"   
  
"Er, Harry Potter, sir."  
  
Dedalus looked delighted and firmly shook Harry's outstretched hand. "Dear me, you've seemed to hurt yourself," he said, noticing the bandage around Harry's hand.   
  
"Just a little accident," said Harry, quickly putting his hand behind his back, embarrassed at the grubbiness of the gauze. He had forgotten to change it after his motorcycle lessons.   
  
"Well, be sure to take proper care of it, you don't want to get an infection." Dedalus turned to his vehicle, which was a rather luxurious classic convertible that looked like it straight from the 1950s. He pulled out a large map. "Perhaps you could help me, I have only just arrived in town, you see, and I don't know my way around. I need to visit an old friend over on Wiltshire Lane but I'm afraid I've no idea how to get there. This map is doing me no good what so ever."   
  
Harry shrugged. "I'm new myself and really don't know where anything is. Sorry. They will probably know inside there." Harry nodded towards the gas station.   
  
"Perhaps, they will." Dedalus brushed nonexistent lint off his top hat before placing it back on his head. He gave Harry a slight nod. "Thank you very much for your time, Mr. Potter."   
  
Harry was treated to several trips up and down the strip before they finally returned to Grimmauld Place. Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, and Sirius were working in the main hall, taking down portraits. Harry noticed a bunch of them lying in a messy pile near the door.  
  
"Oh you can leave that one," said Sirius as Mrs. Weasley started to pull down a portrait of an old man. "I liked Phineas." He turned to the portrait in front of him. It was the one with the mean looking lady. "But this old hag is coming down." Sirius yanked hard on the frame. It would not budge.   
  
"Who is that?" asked Harry as Sirius attacked the frame with all his might.   
  
"Just my mother," he said, glaring at the frame. "She was quite the old bitch." Sirius shrugged and continued pulling on the frame. The frame finally broke free but the portrait itself still remained firmly attached to the wall.   
  
"Jesus Christ! Its glued to the damn wall!" exclaimed Sirius. He picked up a hammer from a nearby box of tools and began hacking at the edges of the painting.  
  
"Don't do that, you'll damage the walls," said Mrs. Weasley. She took the hammer away from Sirius and walked to the kitchen, reappearing a minute later with a bottle of vegetable oil and two butter knives. She handed those to Harry and Ron and led a surly Sirius away from the painting.   
  
The vegetable oil helped greatly in loosening the glue around the painting yet after two hours Ron and Harry still hadn't managed to wrench it completely free. Sirius called it a day and splashed a can of turpentine over the painting.   
  
"Shoulda done that ages ago," he said with a satisfied smirk as the deteriorating paint ran down the canvas.   
  
Harry was rather shocked by Sirius' animosity towards his mother but didn't feel it was his place to ask questions. He set the thoughts aside. Thinking of Sirius and his mother only brought up reminders of his own mother and the way she had died. Harry had been doing his best to not think about it. He didn't see the point on dwelling on something that he could not change. Yet, try as he might, the thoughts still lingered in the back of his mind.   
  
True to their word, the Thestrals came by everyday to point and laugh at Harry as he tried to master the Firebolt. Harry had just about given up hope until the fifth day when he managed to ride over a mile without incident. Sirius decided to mark the occasion with a celebration and invited everyone to dinner at The Leaky Cauldron later that night.   
  
Ron had also been coming by everyday, mostly to dote on Crystal from afar. It had been Mrs. Weasley and not the fierce Tenebrus who finally cooled Ron's rampant flirtation. It seemed she greatly disapproved of her youngest son's infatuation with the middle-aged biker chick.   
  
It was still a few hours until everyone was supposed to meet up for dinner and Sirius insisted that Harry needed to get out and have some fun. Pressing wads of money into both Harry and Ron's hands (he still felt very guilty about the Anglia), Sirius practically shoved them out of Grimmauld Place. His godfather's unyielding persistence greatly confused Harry until he saw Severus' truck pass them on the road that lead to Grimmauld Place.   
  
"Do you think they are gonna, well, you know?" asked Harry, unable to suppress a big grin.   
  
"I'd rather not think about it," said Ron, grimacing.   
  
"Do you think Mr. Snape wears his hat when they-"  
  
"Harry! What part of 'I don't want to think about it' don't you understand?"   
  
Harry chuckled as his mind wandered with thoughts of the delectable Severus Snape. He was very jealous of Sirius right now.   
  
Harry was relieved when Ron completely bypassed the strip in favor of downtown Hogsmeade. Ron pulled up to a place called The Three Broomsticks. Several tables and benches sat outside and teenagers occupied nearly all of them. As Harry got out of the car he saw Ginny Weasley sitting at one table sharing a milkshake with a tall black boy. She threw her brother a nasty look.   
  
Ginny was not the only one who had noticed their arrival. Very loud laughter called Harry's attention to a group of teens sitting at the edge of the tables. Blaise Zabini was in the middle of the group and whispering in the ear of a large. black-haired girl. The two girls, along with every one else in their group, stared at Harry as they talked amongst themselves.   
  
Feeling very annoyed, Harry ignored them and followed Ron to entry of The Three Broomsticks. Their journey was abruptly halted by girl with bright blue eyes and long blond hair pulled up into loose bun and held together with two yellow pencils.  
  
"Hello Ronald," she said, smiling widely. "I like your new car."   
  
"Thanks Luna," replied Ron, rather blandly.   
  
"You're welcome." Luna's smile deepened as she turned to Harry. "And who is your friend?"  
  
"Harry Potter," said Ron, impatiently. "He just moved in with Sirius Black."  
  
A dreamy look passed Luna's face. "Stubby Boardman," she murmured.   
  
"Huh?" asked Harry.   
  
"Yeah, whatever, Luna." Ron rolled his eyes and pulled Harry towards The Three Broomsticks. "God, what a loon," Ron said once they were out of Luna's hearing range. "I guess it's to be expected."   
  
"Why is that?" asked Harry.   
  
"Her family owns The Quibbler," explained Ron, indicating a national tabloid well known for it's outrageous and far-fetched articles. "She actually believes all that crap they publish. Definitely a nut case."   
  
Harry didn't think she was all that odd though he did wonder who Stubby Boardman was.   
  
The inside of The Three Broomsticks was divided into two sections. One side seemed to be a concession stand type eatery selling pizza, hot dogs, hamburgers, ice cream and various drinks while the other side consisted entirely of arcade games with a couple of pool tables in the middle. Harry and Ron purchased themselves root beer floats and began a game of pool. The two were evenly matched in the game and Harry was having a great deal of fun until Blaise Zabini and her group of friends walked over to them.   
  
"Hey Harry," she said as she perched herself up on the corner of the pool table. "So...seen Draco lately?"   
  
"No, I haven't seen him all week," said Harry, irritated.   
  
The large, black-haired girl let out a whoop of joy. "Pay up, Blaise!" she exclaimed.   
  
"Damn," muttered Blaise, thoroughly put out. "I still have time, Millicent! The week's not over yet."   
  
"S'just about..." said Millicent.   
  
"Are you done now?" asked Ron. "You are interrupting our game."  
  
Blaise hopped off the table and lifted her hands in a surrendered motion. Ron shook his head at the group they departed. "Damn bitches need to get a life."   
  
Harry noticed a light brown haired boy standing next a video game and staring at him and Ron. The boy realized he had been caught staring and quickly turned away.   
  
Harry and Ron finished their game without any more interruptions and afterwards Ron decided he needed to order a pizza even though they were going to eat dinner in just a few hours.   
  
"I'm a growing boy," said Ron as he ordered an extra large pizza with all the toppings. "You could use with a little more food yourself if you are going to play football. We need to bulk you up."   
  
"I'm not that skinny," said Harry, looking down at his body as they walked to a table on the outside patio.   
  
Ron scoffed. "What are you? Six foot and what? 150 pounds? That's practically anorexic, Harry!"  
  
"No it's not! I am well within my weight range," protested Harry. "And you aren't exactly much bigger yourself."  
  
"I am 185 pounds I'll have you know. All muscle!" Ron flexed an arm and kissed the mound of bicep muscle that had emerged.   
  
Their pizza soon arrived and with it came a horde of boys each of whom took a slice as Ron shrieked and tried to slap their hands away. It was futile. After a scant 10 seconds all that remained on the pan were a few crumbs and a lone nugget of sausage.   
  
"Damn it!" cried Ron as he flicked the piece of sausage at a very large, bulky boy. The boy immediately stopped eating, popped the piece of sausage in his mouth, and then returned to his pizza.  
  
"God, you're a pig, Vincent," said Ron, disdainly. He gave all the boys a very sullen look. "No one invited you to our pizza."   
  
"Here," said a well-built, dark haired handsome boy, tossing Ron a twenty dollar bill. Ron grudgingly scooped up the money and ordered another pizza.   
  
Harry learned that they were members of the football team. The boys closely scrutinized Harry after Ron told them that he was going to try out for the team. Harry got the impression that he did not measure up. Which was quite all right with him, as he really didn't want to play football. However, Ron insisted that he at least try out and since Harry was feeling a tad guilty about choosing to be in Slytherin when he could have gone into Gryffindor, he gave in.   
  
It became clear to Harry that, unlike he had previously thought, Ron was not the star of the team. That honor seemed to belong to Justin Finch-Fletchley, the boy who had given Ron the twenty and the team's quarterback. Rather it was Ron's passion for the game and his creative strategizing that had earned him the top position. Ron was currently outlining one such creative play to the enthusiastic players.   
  
Harry felt decidedly out of place and more than a little bored. So he excused himself under the pretense of needing to use the restroom though he really intended to play a few video games, hoping that by the time he returned the conversation had turned elsewhere.   
  
Harry had just finished his third game of Space Invaders when he felt a light tap on his shoulder. It was the boy who had been staring at him earlier.   
  
"Hi, I'm Terry Boot," he said, blushing a little. "You're Harry, right?"  
  
"Yeah..." said Harry, cautiously.   
  
"And you're dating Draco Malfoy?" asked Terry, blushing even harder. Loud snickers and giggles came from a few feet away. Blaise and Millicent were watching them eagerly. Harry turned away from them and eyed Terry with mistrust. "Look, if this is about some stupid bet..."  
  
"A bet?" asked Terry, alarmed. Blaise and Millicent were wild with laughter by now. Terry startled Harry by abruptly taking his hand and pulling him far from them. "God, I can't stand them," Terry said, glaring in the girls' direction.   
  
Terry's hostility towards Blaise and her friends greatly warm Harry towards him. He dropped his suspicion and looked expectantly at Terry. Terry glanced about nervously and asked, "So, are you?"  
  
"Am I what?"   
  
"Going out with Draco?"  
  
"Er, no. I'm not," said Harry, wondering why Terry was so interested.   
  
"Good," said Terry, firmly. Though he stammered with uncertainty as he mumbled out his next words. "So would you like to go on a date?"  
  
Harry immediately flushed a bright crimson. "I-uhhh...With you?"  
  
"Yes," said Terry, turning just as red as Harry.   
  
"Er...well, we really don't know each other," said Harry, feeling very hypocritical considering he didn't know Draco when he invited him to his birthday party.   
  
"Well, we could get to know each other," said Terry, with growing confidence. "If you're not with Draco, are you seeing someone else?"  
  
"No..."   
  
"So why not go out with me?"  
  
Harry couldn't think of a good reason.   
  
"It's just a date. Nothing more," said Terry, in Harry's silence.  
  
"That's true..."  
  
"Are you busy Friday night?"   
  
"No..."  
  
"Great!" said Terry, offering Harry a shy smile. "I'll pick you up at 7 o'clock. You live out at Grimmauld Place, right?"   
  
Harry found himself nodding.   
  
"Well, I'll see you then," said Terry. He hesitantly walked up to him and looked as though he might kiss Harry but Terry must have changed his mind as he stopped short and merely gave him a small nod. And then he was gone.   
  
Dazed, Harry remained rooted to the spot for some time. Did he really just agree to go on a date with Terry? Harry didn't recall ever having said yes but it seemed that he did, indeed, have a date with Terry Boot this Friday. "Hell..." 


	4. Chapter Four

Title: Repetitions

Pairing: H/D

Rating: PG-13 to R

Warnings: Complete AU, Set in America, Slash, WIP

Summary: Orphaned Harry Potter is adopted by Sirius Black just before his 17th birthday. In his new town he begins a relationship with Draco Malfoy and tries to uncover the mystery of his parent's death.

AN: Yay! Finally new chapter! Hopefully, you will excuse the long long LONG wait as I have posted a double chapter, over 15,000 words. I had to rewrite it 4 times and this version is absolutely nothing like the original.

Thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed so far! Please let me know what you think of this chapter. Don't be afraid to give Con Crit or tell me which parts you hated. I have a thick skin. I'm so sorry I am not answering the reviews as I said I would. It was such a bitch to get this chapter up (you don't want to know) and I am feeling extremely tired right now. I truly appreciate everyone who took the time to review. I will try to answer them in the next chapter. If you have a question or something you definitely want a response to, your best bet would be to privately email me at madammaliciayahoo.com.

One thing I do want to address is the location. This comes up in a lot of the feedback I get. This information was originally posted with the chapters before I got deleted but I removed it in the repost. The fact that I put them in America is the second most common thing people comment on. The first is Snape. Originally, this AU was going to be set in an earlier time period in a culture that was distinctly American. I realized that putting them in such period and situation would create some angsty problems I'd rather not deal with considering this fic is already so plot heavy. So I moved them up to modern times. At that time I thought about putting them in England as they should be but I was scared of having lots of Americanisms and thought the story would read like they were American anyway. So I left them in the USA, thinking it's AU, I can do that. Plus at this point I had already thought about making Snape a cowboy and fell in love with the idea. I thought such a characterization would stand out too much if it was set in England. That was the swaying factor in deciding to keep in them in America. So in the end, it's all Snape's fault.

And now the fic...

Draco Malfoy was having a very foul week. Oh, it had stared off quite nicely. Draco had to admit that. Meeting Harry Potter, not to mention kissing Harry Potter, was the most exciting thing to happen in an otherwise tedious summer and he hadn't been in such a good mood in quite some time. But, as the old cliché goes, all good things must come to end and Draco's good thing came to a screeching halt immediately after he returned home from Harry's birthday party.

Dobby, an exceptionally small man with a bald head and huge ears, served as the butler and occasional driver. He had been waiting for Draco with the news that his father wished to speak to him without delay.

"He's in a right state," warned Dobby. "Better keep that tongue in check!"

Draco found his father in the Senator's private office. Lucius Malfoy was a tall, powerfully built man with pale blond hair and cool gray eyes. Tonight he donned an expensive, well-cut tuxedo. As always Lucius held his long black cane tipped with a silver snakehead. It had been a constant in Lucius' life ever since he injured his leg in childhood accident. Lucius tapped that cane against the side of his black leather shoe as he sat behind the wide expanse of his normally over-loaded desk. Now, however, it was bereft of anything save a lone piece of paper. Draco knew immediately why his presence had been requested and prepared himself for the forthcoming lecture. He didn't dare ask how his father had found it; doing so would only make things worse.

"Oh, yes, I've discovered your little secret," said Lucius as he picked up the piece of paper. "For weeks you led Narcissa and myself to believe that you hadn't gotten your results back. Why did you lie to us?"

"I was going to tell you," insisted Draco with as much sincerity he could muster. "It just slipped my mind." Actually, Draco had had no plans to inform his parents about his SAT results. He had intended to retake the test in hopes of achieving a higher score. Eleven hundred and eighty might be a number welcome in other households but was considered sub-par for a Malfoy. Lucius' disappointment with the results was evident and he threw away them away with the same distaste one might have when handling another's used Kleenex.

"But you didn't tell us," said Lucius, pursing his lips. "Naturally, there shall be punishment."

"Naturally..." echoed Draco, sullenly.

"You are going to Chicago for a few weeks," said Lucius. "Your Grandmother is expecting you tonight so you will have to miss the party."

"What? No! You can't do this to me again! She hates me!"

Lucius looked away and far too late, said, "Don't be ridiculous, Draco."

"She does! And I hate her ten times more!"

"Nonsense. Now your things have already been packed and Dobby is waiting to take you."

Draco slouched in his seat then sat up confidently. "Mother will never stand for this!"

"Narcissa was the one who suggested this course of action." Lucius allowed himself a grim smile at the look of disbelief on Draco's face. "You can ask her yourself. She is in her room preparing for tonight's festivities."

Draco did not go quietly. Amidst the shrieks and screams he promised his parents he would never forgive them. This was just too much. No one deserved Vanessa Malfoy as a punishment. Draco wouldn't even wish her on his worst enemy. Which was really saying something considering the many other things he has done to those who dared to make themselves his adversary. Dobby took the slowest route to Chicago and listened to Draco complain with a sympathetic ear.

Six hours later Draco stood in the opulent foyer of Vanessa's Lake Shore Drive penthouse. Vanessa, an elegant matron of seventy-five years, did not bother to greet her grandson herself. The maid she sent informed Draco that he was to go straight to bed and Vanessa would see him in the morning.

Draco didn't know why his father forced him to visit her so often. Visits that could be very damaging to a lesser willed person. Draco couldn't say that Vanessa didn't like him because he was gay, it was clear she had had a problem with him way before that had come out. Never once in his whole sixteen years could he recall her ever actually addressing him by name. She would merely point and say, "You." This had alienated Draco before he was even out of diapers and he retaliated by refusing to call her 'Grandmother'. In his freshman year, after Draco came out as a homosexual, Vanessa wouldn't speak to him more than a year. Draco hadn't minded, in fact, he was quite happy to be estranged from her and would have come out sooner had he known that would be the result. It was only after Lucius threatened Vanessa with "assisted living" did she resume communication.

The visit went exactly as Draco expected. He not permitted to explore Chicago nor was he allowed to use the phone or watch television. Everyday Vanessa forced him to read the various pamphlets and books she had collected on the perils of homosexuality, and then discuss with her what he had learned. Draco did not hold back his opinions despite it making Vanessa agitated to the point of near heart attack. After such conversations Draco would be grounded to his room where he took wicked satisfaction in pleasuring himself as he thought about Harry Potter.

The only bright spots in these dark, miserable days were the mornings when Vanessa would reluctantly take him to her country club so that he could swim. Draco had been swimming competitively since he was a young boy and until two years ago he had been a serious contender for the Olympics. He was still the best in State thanks to regular, grueling training sessions and Vanessa knew better than to disrupt them.

Liberation came in the form of Dobby very early on Friday morning. Never had Draco been so happy to see the man. They hightailed it out of Chicago as fast as they could. Draco encouraged Dobby to speed and they made it to Hogsmeade in no time at all. Upon returning home, Draco went directly to find his parents, determined to give them a good piece of his mind. Really, what were they thinking, sending him to stay with such a person, grandmother or not? He had only stayed a week instead of the threatened "few weeks" but still, there are some things you just don't do your children. Unfortunately, Lucius and Narcissa were not home to receive his wrath.

Draco seethed silently for a few minutes then went to check if he had any messages. He was extremely disappointed to see that Harry hadn't left a single one. Draco wondered if Ron Weasley had turned Harry against him while he was away and vowed that the Weasel would pay if he interfered.

He wasn't exactly sure why he liked Harry so much. He had certainly known cuter boys in his lifetime. Harry wasn't even they type of boy Draco normally liked. He liked them raw, reckless and just a little bit rude. The kind of boy mothers warned their daughters and gay sons about. Boys like...Neville Longbottom. Definitely not the shy, sweet and innocent type. But Draco couldn't deny that there was something special about Harry Potter. He knew it the very second he had seen him.

Thinking of Harry improved Draco's mood immensely and it with a light heart that Draco turned to his other messages. Most of them were from Blaise Zabini and labeled urgent. He called her right away to see what the fuss was about.

"Where the fuck have you been?" barked Blaise the second she got on the line.

"Father grounded me to Chicago again."

"That sucks. But listen to this shit. I heard from Theodore that Terry Boot asked your boy out. He overhead them at The Three Broomsticks."

Draco nearly dropped the phone. "What?"

"Terry asked out that boy. Harry Potter. Must be for revenge."

"And did he accept?" asked Draco with a cool calmness he did not feel.

"Fuck if I know," said Blaise. "You can ask him yourself if you want. He'll be at the football field for the try-outs." Blaise suddenly burst into mad cackles. "You should come anyway, especially if you want to see Ron Weasley throw a bitch fit."

Harry Potter was a very nervous boy. He had come early to the football tryouts with Ron, who needed to help Coach Hooch prepare. He was very surprised to learn the football coach was a woman though he could tell right away that she could be just as tough as any man. Over the last few days Ron, along with George and Fred who had played all though high school and still played at Hogsmeade University, had been him teaching the sport of football. Though he had never played before Harry found that he was actually kind of good at it. Ron even said that with a little practice he would make a great running back.

Still, in all honesty, Harry would much rather not be there. He was positive that he would make a fool of himself. Harry's anxiety was magnified by the fact that he had a date with Terry Boot that very night. He hadn't told anyone at all about the date; hoping something would happen so he'd have to cancel.

The rest of the team arrived in a noisy mass, tearing Harry from his thoughts. Shortly thereafter, the prospective new players trickled in. Most of the prospectives were young and small, no doubt incoming freshmen, however, there were a few older ones and Harry didn't feel quite so out of place.

"Fuck!" Ron snapped suddenly.

"Watch your language, Weasley," said Hooch as she scribbled something on her clipboard.

"Look, Coach!"

Hooch looked up. "Dammit!"

Everyone looked over to what had captured their attention. There was Tonks in a wavy blond wig and black business suit, heading up a group that included Blaise, Nicky, and trailing at the very, Draco Malfoy. Harry immediately wished he wore something other then Dudley Dursley's old clothes.

"Hello, Coach," said Tonks once she had reached the field. She looked a bit peaked but the voice was strong and commanding. Hooch did not return the greeting. Tonks pulled a grinning Blaise forward and said, "Blaise Zabini informs me that for three years she asked to try out for the team and for three years you have denied her the opportunity."

Hooch said nothing and glared at the lawyer. Ron swarmed behind the coach, nearly magenta with rage.

"Aren't you supposed to be resting at home?" he finally shouted out.

Harry hadn't known Tonks long but even he knew that was very much the wrong thing to say to her. Tonks gave Ron a sharp look of her own and pressed on, even more determined. "According to Title IX-"

"I am familiar with Title IX!" barked Hooch.

"Apparently, you are not, else I would not have to be here today."

Hooch was livid. After a few calming breaths she commanded Ron to take everyone to the end zone and get them warmed up. Ron did so reluctantly. It was clear that the conversation between Hooch and Tonks was getting quite heated and everyone was distracted as they tried to listen in.

"And furthermore," Tonks was saying loudly, "I am appalled that you, as a woman in this male dominated arena, would try to prevent another female-"

"Man, I hope they don't let her on the team," said a brunet player a few feet from Harry. "The season will be ruined."

"We have to let her at least try out, Ernie," spoke up Justin. "It's the law."

"This is all my fault!" said Ron, bitterly. "I was the one who taught her how to play."

"Why'd you do a stupid thing like that?" asked Ernie. The rest of the team turned accusing eyes to Ron.

"It was in the seventh grade!" protested Ron. "She wasn't all dyke-y back then. I didn't think she'd ever want to play for real."

Hooch soon arrived with a very pleased Blaise tagging along behind her. "Line up with the rest of them, Zabini," Hooch snapped.

The try-outs were very rough, far more so then the earlier practices with Ron and the Weasley twins had ever been. He suspected they were only being so hard on them because they wanted to oust Blaise. Harry knew he was playing poorly as he couldn't stop looking over at Draco who sat in the stands with Tonks and Nicky. Ron eventually had to pull him aside and tell him to concentrate.

After several plays they were given a break. Harry had never felt so battered and exhausted in his life. If Blaise was the favorite to be roughed up then he was definitely in second place. He was sitting on the grass, enjoying a moments of rest when he felt light tap on his shoulder. He looked up to see Draco smiling down at him.

"Hello, Harry," said Draco. "....you didn't call me..."

Harry didn't know what to say. He certainly wasn't going to say that he had wanted to every night but had been too shy to dial the digits. He wasn't going to say that he had hoped every day for Draco to call him instead and had been depressed when he hadn't.

"You didn't call me either," Harry eventually said.

Draco looked pained. "I was sent to my father's mother's place in Chicago and wasn't allowed to use the phone. I just got back this morning."

"I see," said Harry as casually as he could. Secretly, he was elated Draco had had a good reason to not call him.

"Well, I have to go soon. I was just wondering if you were doing something tonight?"

"Err, I...I have to do something with Sirius."

"I'm sure Sirius will let you out of it,"

"Umm-"

"Break's over!" shouted Hooch. Harry was relieved for the interruption. "I better go," said Harry, quickly.

The second half of things went much quicker for Harry since he didn't have Draco to look at every two seconds. By the end, Harry was too worn-out to react when his own name was called as one of those who made the team. Blaise had made the team as well and her thrilled shrieks drowned out the angry grumbling of everyone else.

Ron was furious and complained about Tonks and Blaise as he drove Harry home later that afternoon. Harry didn't like Blaise but he had to admit that she had played well. Certainly better then he had. However, he was sure Ron wouldn't appreciate his input on the matter and wisely kept his mouth shut.

Sirius was waiting anxiously in the parlor after Ron dropped him off. "Are you in?"

"Yeah," said Harry, dully. He plopped in a ratty old chair and handed Sirius several permission and clearance forms. "You and a doctor have to fill those out before I can play."

"Jeez, try not to sound too excited about it." Sirius studied Harry for a few seconds. "You don't have to play if you don't want too. Don't let Ron pressure-"

"It's not that," interrupted Harry. "I...have a date tonight."

"Why all the gloom then? I thought you liked Draco..."

"It's not with Draco. It's with this boy named Terry Boot. I don't know why he asked me out." Harry sighed miserably.

"Well, you're a great boy...If I were twenty years younger and you weren't James's son…" Sirius paused. "The question is, why did you accept if you didn't want to go?"

"I didn't accept! Not really!" Harry quickly told Sirius how Terry had asked him out.

"Hmmm. Maybe he was just thrilled to meet another gay boy his age. I can't imagine there are many. That are out, at any rate. Back when I was in high school no one was out of the closet. I didn't even tell the rest of the Marauders until I was in college. But they pretty much knew by then anyway."

Harry perked. "You know, I didn't ask you if I could go out-"

"You don't need my permission to go on dates."

Harry continued as if he hadn't heard Sirius. "I could tell Terry that you won't let me go."

"Oh, no you don't. You're not going to use me as an excuse. Just go and try to have a good time. It's will good for you to meet boys other than Draco."

"I know lots of boys. Ron...Fred and George...some of the guys on the football team..."

"You know what I mean, Harry. Better go get cleaned up. You don't want to go on your date stinking."

"Turn that down!" snapped Draco. "We have to be inconspicuous!"

For reasons Draco had no hope of understanding, Blaise had chosen to tear the entire backseat from her Mustang and put a huge carpet-covered speaker in its place. Currently, she had that speaker blasting at full volume and Draco was sure that anyone in a ten-mile radius could hear it. Draco knew it was mistake to bring her but he thought Harry might recognize his own car and Blaise would sooner rot in hell before she allowed anyone to drive her precious 'Stang.

"Hey! I was listening to that!" complained Blaise when Draco turned the stereo off.

"Listen to it later!"

Blaise sat back in the driver's seat looking completely and hopelessly bored. After several prolonged sighs, she asked, "Are you even sure this date is tonight?"

"Oh, I'm sure," said Draco as he brought the binoculars to his eyes again. They had parked on a small hill and from his vantage point he had a clear view of Grimmauld Place. He remained glued to the binoculars, attentive to even the smallest signs of activity.

"This is really sad, Draco," said Blaise, shaking her head. "I know you haven't gotten any in a while but if you're that hot for a piece of ass tonight why don't you just call up Ian Warrington? You always liked him."

"Ian is old news. And Harry is not just a piece of-Oh!" Draco jerked in his seat and quickly refocused the binoculars. "What kind of car does Terry drive?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to know that? Like I pay any attention to Terry Boot."

Draco watched as a blue car parked in front of Grimmauld Place. Terry emerged from the vehicle and went to the front steps where he was greeted by Sirius and Harry. Harry looked delicious in a crisp white shirt and snug black pants. He had obviously come fresh from the shower as his skin had that fresh dewy look. It galled Draco to think about Harry looking so good for someone else and his mouth tightened into a thin white line.

Blaise dutifully tailed Terry's car through winding and twisting roads of Hogsmeade. Being a Friday night, the streets were crowded and Blaise was able to closely follow without calling any undue attention to their car.

"I can't believe he took Harry to this dump!" Draco said when Terry pulled up to an Italian restaurant called Giovanni's.

"My Aunt Carina owns this place, I'll have you know!"

"Well, it's still a dump."

"People think it's quaint," said Blaise as she parked in front of an office building next to Giovanni's. "Please tell me we are not going to sit out here the entire time."

Draco made a tittering sound and reached for his binoculars. Fortunately, Giovanni's had large bay windows and he was able to see everything quite well.

Things were certainly getting interesting inside the restaurant. Harry and Terry were, initially, very awkward with each other. Draco could tell that just by looking at them. Then very abruptly both boys relaxed. Harry gave Terry a wide smile and scooted closer to him in the booth as they commenced with a very animated but intimate conversation.

Draco tore the binoculars away from his face with an aggravated frown. Harry was not supposed to smile at Terry like that. Harry was not supposed to like Terry. For the life of him, Draco couldn't see what Harry might find interesting about Terry Boot. He knew from personal experience what a bore the boy was.

"What's going on?" asked Blaise as she wrestled the binoculars away from Draco and took a look for herself. "Hmmm. Looks like they are getting friendly. I bet they get it on tonight."

Blaise put down the binoculars to see Draco's very annoyed face. "I guess you won't be taking that bet."

Draco glared at her for a few seconds then asked, with a smirk, "Do you think Lisa Turpin knows about this?"

"I doubt it. Terry would never tell and I told Theodore not say anything. Can't have everyone knowing you got dumped for Terry Boot."

Draco had the peculiar sensation of being both touched that Blaise sought to protect his reputation and annoyed at the suggestion that he had been dumped.

"What are you thinking, Draco?" Blaise asked. "You've got that look in your eyes."

Draco smiled for the first time this evening and got out of the car. "Let's go. It's about time this date came to an end."

As they made their way to the restaurant, Draco outlined his plan to Blaise. At Blaise's suggestion, they entered through a back service door that immediately opened to a large kitchen. She quickly sought out her Aunt Carina and communicated their urgent need to speak with Terry Boot privately. Carina offered them use of her office and sent a waitress to retrieve Terry.

Terry arrived at the office a few minutes later. He tried to bolt from the room when seeing who had summoned him but Blaise managed to close the door and lock it before he could get out. Draco sat at a chair behind the desk and leaned back as he surveyed Terry.

"Well, isn't this a coincidence?" Draco asked, grinning at the wary boy.

"What do you want, Draco?"

"I think that should be rather obvious but I'll play along. What I want to know is, why are you here, having what, by all appearances, seems to be a date with Harry Potter?"

Terry stiffened and weakly said, "I don't see how that is your business."

Draco chuckled. "Anything is my business if I choose to make it so." He paused and tapped a finger against his bottom lip. "But you know whose business this really is? Lisa Turpin's. I wonder how she would react were she to find out that her loving boyfriend is having a nice romantic date with someone else. And not just anyone, but a boy! I don't think she'd react too kindly. Why, after all those rumors last year…"

"It's not like that!" protested Terry, who had paled considerably during Draco's speech.

"Isn't it?" Draco lifted his eyebrows and shifted his gaze to Blaise. "What say you? Shall we call dear Lisa and inform her of this development?"

"Absolutely!"

"No!" shrieked Terry.

"Why shouldn't I?"

As expected, Terry had no answer.

"However," began Draco, looking oddly repentant. "I am not the complete bastard you think me to be, Terry." A look of pure anguish crossed Draco's face as though such an assessment greatly wounded him. "I am prepared to keep your secret if you do me a little favor."

"And what would that be?" Terry asked cautiously.

"Leave. Leave now. Go out there and tell Harry you have a family emergency or something. Just leave."

Terry stared miserably into space for a few seconds then gave a resigned sigh. "Fine."

"Oh and Terry?" said Draco, smiling though his voice had taken a harsh tone. "It would behoove you to stay the fuck away from him in the future."

"We should have called Lisa," said Blaise after Terry had left. "You were far too easy on him."

Draco agreed completely, but he couldn't afford to rile Terry up much more than he had. Who knew what the boy would do then. Terry had just as much, if not more, damaging information he could dangle over Draco's own head. He was just too stupid use it. Or perhaps too embarrassed. Draco couldn't decide which but it didn't matter to him as long as certain secrets remained secret.

They followed Terry to the main section of the restaurant and hid behind a large aquarium as Terry said his goodbyes to Harry. Draco told himself he didn't care that Harry looked very much disappointed to see Terry go and unsuccessfully tried to ignore the twisting, sinking feeling growing in his gut.

"I think you got some competition!" whispered Blaise, putting voice to Draco's concerns. "This could get interesting."

"No, it won't," bit out Draco. "Terry will stay away, if he knows what's good for him."

"So what are you going to do now? Claim your prize?"

Draco wanted to do just that, but… "No, it would look odd if I suddenly showed up. Plus Father has me on an 8 o'clock and I'm already 30 minutes late. "

"God, that's gotta burn. So we're just gonna leave him here?"

"Nope, you are going to give him a ride home. I'll call Dobby to pick me up."

"And what if he won't go with me? I don't think your boyfriend likes me very much."

"Why is that?" Draco's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "What did you do to him, Blaise?"

"Nothing!" said Blaise, laughing.

"Blaise…"

"Nothing!"

"Blaise!"

"Nothing! I swear! It was probably something Ron Weasley said. You know he hates me."

That was certainly possible, Draco had to admit. But Blaise looked far too amused with herself for his liking. "Don't you dare fuck this up for me, Blaise! Just see him safely home…oh and try to find out as much as you can about what went down with him and Terry tonight."

Blaise rolled her eyes. "Alright. Jeez! You want me to tuck him into bed and read a bedtime story too?"

Harry lingered over his plate of cheesecake, thinking about this strange evening that had come to such an abrupt end.

Terry, at first, had been extremely nervous and distracted, almost as if he didn't want to be there himself. Then, very suddenly, midway through their appetizers, Terry admitted that he had a girlfriend and had only asked him out because he started having feelings towards other boys and wanted to talk to someone else who knew about such things.

Harry could sympathize. The discovery of his own sexual preferences had been confusing and, at times, painful, mostly due to living with his extremely homophobic relatives. Harry, however, was not the fount of homosexual wisdom that Terry seemed to hope he would be, and certainly not when it came to liking both sexes. Nonetheless, Harry shared his limited experience and Terry listened eagerly.

After Terry's revelation things improved greatly and their date became more like a dinner between new friends. Each boy relaxed in the new atmosphere and Harry discovered that an un-anxious Terry was very intelligent and funny. They shared many common interests including a near fanatical love for Troma films. Harry was very excited to learn that Terry had every single Troma movie produced. They had been discussing the finer points of the Toxic Avenger series and making plans to hold an all-night film fest when Terry was called away to attend to a family emergency.

A hand grasped Harry on the shoulder, startling him from his reverie. He turned to see Blaise Zabini grinning at him.

"S'up?" asked Blaise as she made herself at home in the seat across from Harry and lit a cigarette.

"Umm…what are you doing here?"

"My aunt owns this joint. I'm here all the time."

"Well, can I help you with you something?"

Blaise's grin deepened. "I saw you. With Terry, I mean. How very interesting. I didn't even know Terry was into boys."

Harry pushed his plate of cheesecake away, his appetite dampened by both the company and the turn of conversation. Though he didn't know much about Terry just yet, Harry was sure he wasn't open about his preferences. Harry had to make sure he didn't inadvertently out the boy. "Terry and I are merely friends. Besides, he has a girlfriend."

Surprise fluttered across Blaise's face. "So you know about Lisa…"

"Yes. What's it to you anyway?"

"Nothing," said Blaise between puffs of smoke. "But I bet Draco would like to know you were out enjoying a cozy little dinner with another boy."

Harry tensed. Draco. She was going to tell him. Of that, he was certain. While Harry knew he was well within in his rights to see any boy, in whatever capacity, he'd prefer Draco not knowing. Especially since he had already lied about his plans for tonight.

"Don't worry," said Blaise, giggling to herself. "I'm not going to tell him."

He didn't believe it for one second. "Why wouldn't you? You seem to enjoying gossiping about people."

"Because…" Blaise trailed off and intently studied the lit end of her cigarette. "Because he is one my best friends…and he would be crushed to know you were on a date."

"I told you already, Terry and I-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," interrupted Blaise, waving a hand dismissively. "Just friends. But it looked like more than that. Listen to me-"Blaise suddenly looked around as if she expected someone to be eavesdropping on them. She continued in a hushed whisper. "-and don't tell Draco I told you this! But, ah, he really likes you. Probably more than is good for him. I don't what's going between you and Terry and like I said, it's nothing to me. But it's going to mean something to Draco. So if you don't like Draco like that, let him know now before he gets too wrapped up. I must admit, at first I thought you were like the other boys Draco has liked but you've proved me wrong."

Harry felt ridiculously happy at Blaise's words but managed keep his expression passive. He did give in to his curiosity though. "So have there been lots? Of other boys?"

Blaise's face twisted into a sneer and with her voice dripping with disdain, she said, "Oh…let me guess. Ron Weasley has told you what a big slut Draco is?"

His first instinct was defend his friend but he couldn't as Ron had pretty much said just that. His face must have answered for him as Blaise continued, "Well, I am not going to lie…there has been some. But let's get realistic here for second. Maybe it's different where you used to live but around here there aren't that many gay boys our age. Even if Draco wanted to go whoring around Hogsmeade, there wouldn't be much of an opportunity." She scooped her pack of cigarettes off the table and stood up. "Anyway, I just thought I would be nice and offer you a ride home since your good friend Terry seems to have abandoned you."

"I can take a cab."

"Hey, its no skin off my ass if you waste your money. I was going that way anyway."

"Why would you be going that way?" Harry asked, looking at her inquiringly. "I live in the middle of nowhere."

"I know!" Blaise said happily. "All those long, empty roads and not a cop in sight. I can get up to 110 in less than 60 seconds!"

A feat Blaise aptly demonstrated once she had passed the city limits. The combination of speed, loud booming music, and ever-present clouds of cigarette smoke left Harry feeling very nauseous by the time they reached Grimmauld Place. Her none too subtle angling for information about him and Terry didn't help matters. However, Harry conceded, she wasn't quite as annoying as he had previously thought.

He was a bit awed that it had been Blaise, of all people, to lay to rest the lingering doubts he had about Draco. The rational side of Harry told him that people didn't give their beloved possessions away to someone if they were only looking to get a quick roll in the hay. Harry wouldn't think so at least. Everything was just so new and confusing to him and he didn't know what think or believe most of the time. Ron was certainly sincere in his convictions, even if he was allowing his dislike of Draco to color his opinions but what Blaise had said made a lot of sense as well. Harry decided to just take things as they come, to base his choices on the present rather than suspect, second hand accounts of the past. It was the only fair thing to do.

A loud scuffling sound greeted Harry when he first entered Grimmauld Place. He quickly discovered the source, which turned out to be Snuffles attacking a pile of broken and old furniture in a corner of the large front hall. Similar piles were laid out throughout the house. Mrs. Weasley had been taking a break to prepare for Percy's departure for law school and Bill's upcoming wedding. Neither Harry nor Sirius had felt much inclined to clean without her to nudge them along. Even the damaged portrait of Mrs. Black still hung on the wall. Harry gave the animal a quick rubdown before cautiously proceeding deeper into the house. If Snuffles was there then Severus was no doubt close by, doing only God knows what with Sirius.

Sirius and Severus. Now those two had a very odd relationship in Harry's opinion. Sirius explained that he and Severus had been secretly seeing each other for years before he was sent away to Azkaban and they had tentatively renewed their relationship on his release. Harry wasn't so sure it was going well. According to Sirius, Severus was still a bit closeted and refused to publicly acknowledge their relationship even though many in Hogsmeade already knew. Sirius was determined to drag Severus completely out the closet, kicking and screaming if need be. The issue was the source of never ending fights between the two and they seemed to spend most of their time together arguing over that and the most trivial things as well. But then, there were other times. Calmer, almost gentle times when they didn't act as if they hated each other. Times when they would look at each with an intensity Harry could not fathom then disappear to Sirius' room for hours on end.

Harry had no clue what Sirius and Severus were up to at the moment, as a quick investigation fruited neither man. Harry abandoned the search and headed for his room, intending to change into something more comfortable. He was halfway up the stairs when he heard a loud blood-curdling scream that sounded like Sirius. Was Severus trying to kill him? Harry reacted without thinking and hurried towards the sound which had come from the closed off Billiards room in an unused section of the first floor. Harry rushed in and soon wished he hadn't.

He stared, agog at Sirius and Severus in a twisted tangle of sweaty, naked flesh atop a pool table. It took them a few seconds to realize that Harry had stormed in but a few seconds was all Harry needed. Severus's unclad form proved to be even more enticing than Harry had imagined. And Sirius! When had Sirius gotten all those muscles? No! He was not going to go there. A tiny shred of guilt cut into Harry. It felt so incredibly wrong to think about Sirius that way. Though he had only been living with Sirius for a few weeks, he already thought of him as family.

The thought did little to subdue Harry's reaction. Heat surged through his body and pooled itself in his very core. He couldn't stop staring. Never had he seen two men together like that. Never. Harry hadn't even dared to look up the odd spot of gay porn on the internet during the rare instances he was allowed to use Dudley's computer for fear the Dursley's might discover his nefarious activities.

"Harry! What are you doing home so early?" asked Sirius, his voice resounding with shock and embarrassment as he and a glaring, cursing Severus scrambled off the pool table and frantically searched for their clothing. Finding none nearby, Sirius crouched behind the pool table while Severus used his cowboy hat to cover his naughty bits.

"Er…I, um, my date ended early."

"And why did you find it necessary to bust in here like a deranged maniac?" Severus asked furiously.

"I heard Sirius scream…and thought he was hurt." Harry refrained from mentioning he thought Severus had done the hurting.

The pink in Sirius' cheeks darkened. "No, not…hurt. So, um, Harry, can you…" Sirius looked pointedly at the door.

Of course! They wanted him to leave. Why was he still standing there? "Uhh, yeah! I'll just go."

"Yes, you do that," growled Severus.

"Don't talk to him like that!" snapped Sirius, frowning at Severus as Harry fled. "It was an honest mistake."

Harry ran to his room. Increasingly loud and bitter shouts between Sirius and Severus chased his heels. An all out fight soon broke out, their most headed one yet. Harry heard his own name mentioned several times. He strained to hear what they were saying about him but couldn't gleam much of anything. Giving up, Harry turned on the radio with the volume just loud enough to block out the angry reverberations from below.

This was all his fault. He should have known better than to barge in there like that. True, it had been because of a misunderstanding but that fact barely diminished the guilt he felt. Sirius and Severus could be breaking up at this very moment.

He pushed the thoughts aside to address a more immediate problem. It was still there, completely unfettered by the situation at hand. Raging, aching and demanding it's share fair of attention. Harry looked down at the constricted bulge between his legs and unbuttoned his pants. Sometimes he really hated being a boy.

The next morning Harry was surprised to see Severus reading the newspaper at the kitchen table. The two men had still been fighting when he had gone to sleep last night and he thought Severus would have surely stormed off as he usually did after such incidents. But today there didn't seem to be any animosity between them, for which Harry felt glad. If they weren't going to bring up last night, then neither was he.

"Morning, Sirius…Mr. Snape."

Severus offered Harry a small grunt in acknowledgment.

"Really," said Sirius from where he stood at the stove, burning the breakfast bacon. "How many times must I tell you? You can call him Severus outside of school."

Severus' left eyebrow arched so sharply at the suggestion that it completely disappeared under his hat.

Sirius frowned at him. "Don't be that way, Severus."

Severus sighed and returned to his paper. "Do whatever. Anything to shut this man up."

"So what will it be, Harry?" Sirius asked as he waved a spatula over the smoking skillet. "Black or extra black?"

Harry's nose wrinkled and he went to the food pantry to grab the box of Cheerios. "I think I'll have some cereal."

"Good choice." Sirius abandoned his culinary attempts and took a seat at the table. "So what happen last night? Why'd your date end so early?"

"Terry had a family emergency and had to leave. We're gonna meet up later this week and watch some movies and stuff. But not as a date or anything."

Sirius nodded and said, "Got any plans today? I thought we'd ride for a while then go out and do something. It will be good to get away from the house."

"I'm free."

He turned to Severus with a questioning look.

"I've got to work."

Sirius looked dubious. "On a Saturday? In the summer?"

"There's still work that needs to be done," said Severus as he folded his newspaper and stood up. "Not that you'd know anything about working."

"Eh! There's plenty of time to find a job. Besides, I have enough money to live comfortably for three lifetimes."

"Well, just because a man doesn't have to work, that doesn't mean he shouldn't." Severus lifted his eyebrows in challenge.

Sirius sighed and said, "I'm not letting you pick a fight with me today."

Severus' look of disappointment was almost comical.

Immediately after breakfast they began the riding lessons. Harry didn't know why they bothered. Some people were simply not meant to ride a motorcycle and Harry figured he was one of them. Except for a few small improvements, Harry's performance on the bike had changed little since day one. He would have given up already were it not for Sirius. Sirius remained optimistic though Harry knew he was frustrated by the lack of success.

After an hour or so of unrewarding instruction, Sirius changed tactics. Instead of riding alongside Harry, Sirius decided that Harry should go out alone.

"That's how I learned," said Sirius as he urged a hesitant Harry off. "Only me and the open road. Just don't go too fast and stay to the blacktop."

Surprisingly, Harry did have an easier time of it by himself. Since there was no one watching him, Harry didn't have to worry about impressing or disappointing anyone. While he still made the usual mistakes, they were fewer in number and he didn't dwell on them as much. Eventually, Harry even felt bold enough to take on the highway.

The roads were extremely crowded with cars, campers and hitched boats as people went on their way to a bit of summer merriment but Harry found it wasn't too difficult to navigate between the vehicles.

Then he felt it. A cold, almost icy feeling washed over him. The sweat dripping on his brow dried up and goose bumps broke out on his arms even as the blisteringly hot sun shone down. A creeping feeling of being watched intensified as each second passed. Harry left the highway for a side road but the feelings persisted.

A distant rumble buzzed in his ears and he let out the breath he was holding. Motorcycles. The Thestrals? Harry didn't have any more time to contemplate the issue as the motorcycles soon bore down on him. He heard loud laughs and cackles as they surrounded him on all sides. Harry's stomach dropped. They were not the Thestrals. The unknown riders drastically increased their speed, forcing Harry to do the same. Harry had never gone so fast on the Firebolt before and could barely get through the haze of his panicked mind to control the shaking machine. He swerved violently from side to side and he was certain he was going to crash.

And he just about did. It happened during a particularly sharp curve. They hadn't left him enough space to adequately turn and his bike almost grazed against the one beside him. He heard a loud shout and the bikers drew to a stop. Harry wanted to ride on, to get away from them but the bike he had nearly collided with pulled forward and turned sideways, effectively blocking his path.

It was the biggest bike he had ever seen, a masterpiece of chrome and leather, driven by a tall, thin man with sleek silver hair and a white goatee, yellowed by years of smoking. Perched behind him was the biggest woman Harry had ever seen, dark haired, solid and with a height to rival Hagrid's.

"Get him, Karkaroff!" A harden voice gleefully shouted behind Harry.

"Don't, Igor," said the woman, timidly, as Karkaroff got off the bike. "He's just a child."

"Shut it, Olympe!" snapped Karkaroff. Olympe winced and said no more. He sauntered over to Harry. The man inhaled deeply from the soggy stub of a cigar clenched in his teeth and blew the smoke right in Harry's face. "You hit my bike, boy."

It was all Harry could do to not cough. He gripped the handles of his bike to steady the trembling in his hands and looked up at Karkaroff only to see himself reflected in the man's mirrored sunglasses. "I-I didn't!"

Karkaroff chuckled. "No?"

He made as to move away then very suddenly jerked Harry by the collar of his t-shirt. Karkaroff was much stronger then he looked and easily pulled Harry off his bike. The Firebolt crashed to the ground and Harry cringed at the horrible sound of grating metal. Karkaroff dragged Harry over to his bike and kicked him in the shin, making him to his knees. Sharp pain shot through his legs but Harry made himself not cry out.

"Then what do you call that?" Karkaroff pressed Harry's head just inches from the gleaming chrome of the motorcycle.

"I don't see anything!"

"Maybe you need a closer look?"

Harry felt his helmet being wrenched off. A rough hand clawed the back of his head and pushed him even closer.

There was a small scratch. But it was a very faint and had obviously been there for some time. An odd sense of bravado flooded through Harry. He didn't know who these people were or why they were messing with him but he wasn't about to admit to something he knew he didn't do.

Harry lifted a defiant face to Karkaroff. "I didn't do that!"

At the very least, Harry expected to hit. He did not expect Karkaroff to stumble back and weakly mumble, "I'll be a son of a bitch."

Karkaroff quickly gained his bearings and tore his sunglasses of his face. He leaned in to leer at Harry. "Who are you, boy?"

A loud siren wailed before Harry could answer, or rather, not answer as he had no intention of telling Karkaroff his name. The siren belonged to a single gold and tan police motorcycle cruiser of the Highway Patrol. The officer stepped off the cruiser and removed her helmet.

Harry was extremely shocked to see that it was Crystal. The Crystal Harry knew was a quiet, soft-spoken woman who was prone to staring at him with a shy smile. There was no trace of that person today.

"Officer Devereaux," Karkaroff said with a small smile that did not meet his eyes. "It's been awhile."

"Not long enough," Crystal said gruffly. She stood boldly before them with one hand poised above the gun in her holster. Her eyes turned to Harry and she motioned for him to come to her. He did so without delay.

Karkaroff must have notice the spark of recognition between the two for he asked, "So who's this little friend of yours?"

"Don't you worry about who he is!"

"The hell I won't! The boy slammed right into me!"

Concurring shouts came from the bikers behind them.

"No!" protested Harry. "They're lying!"

Crystal pursed her lips and walked over to Karkaroff's bike. "Well, I don't see any damage," She said after giving it a thorough inspection. "I suggest you all move along now…unless you'd like to be brought in for assaulting a minor?"

Karkaroff glared Crystal then hopped on his bike and waved to his friends. They zoomed off, jeering as they went.

"Goddamn Dementors!" Crystal roared then literally spat on the ground when the last one had faded from sight. Her head shook slightly. "I can't believe Olympe! Riding around with such trash!"

Harry watched her, still quite frazzled. Crystal seemed to be lost in her own thoughts and nearly jumped out her skin when Harry asked, "Who were those people?"

"The Dementors. They're from Durmstrang, about ten miles north. I don't why they were down here fucking with you but they will pay!" Crystal's frown transformed into a very sinister grin.

"Are you going to arrest them?"

Crystal almost sneered. "No…there are better ways of administering justice..." She sighed and smiled ruefully at Harry. "I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner. Sirius is going to murder me. He called and told me you were out alone and asked me to keep an eye on you. I got side tracked by a bunch of speeding kids."

She went to his bike and put it right side up. "Come along, Harry. I'll escort you home." Crystal paused then continued very sternly. "And you stay away from Karkaroff in the future. He's a very dangerous man."

Indignation rose in Harry as he got on his Firebolt. It wasn't as if he had invited the Dementors to come after him. Nevertheless, he promised to avoid the man though Harry had the feeling he would be seeing him again soon.

It took Harry over an hour to calm a very enraged Sirius down. All his hard work was for naught as Tenebrus and a few of the other Thestrals arrived and quickly had Sirius reworked into a foaming fury. The group of angry men sat in a little powwow; discussing ways they could "Get Karkaroff". Harry was quite shocked at some of the suggestions.

While he appreciated their anger on his behalf, Harry couldn't help but feel they were blowing everything out of proportion. Sure, he wanted justice. But not like this. His protests were either brushed aside or completely ignored. Harry gave up and left them. It was making him a little sick to hear what they were planning. He hoped they were just blowing off hot air.

Unfortunately, that proved not to be the case.

"Harry! We'll be back in a couple hours!" shouted Sirius from outside.

"Wait!"

But Harry was too late. By the time he reached the front lawn Sirius and the rest of them were already gone. Harry sat on the front steps and listened as the dim hum of motorcycles faded into nothingness. Sirius was going to get himself killed, if Karkaroff was as dangerous as they were making him out to be. Harry thought he ought to do something. Maybe call Remus or even Severus. He immediately dismissed the idea. He couldn't go tattling like Sirius was some misbehaving child.

Three hours later Remus' car pulled up and Harry anxiously ran out to greet him. "Is Sirius alright?"

"Better than he ought to be. He's been arrested."

"Arrested?"  
  
"Yes, the whole lot of them. Got into a big brawl up in a Durmstrang bar. He'll be there until Monday. That's earliest he can go before a judge."

Harry sighed miserably then flopped back down on the steps.

"Oh, no you don't, Harry," said Remus, seeing Harry's glum face. "Don't you dare feel bad about this. Sirius knew exactly what he was getting into. He's lucky he's got away with just a little jail time."

"He just got out of jail!"

"Well, maybe he needs a little reminder of what it's like. Then next time, he'll think twice about rushing hotheaded into things. Anyway-"Remus' voice softened. "Sirius doesn't want you staying out here by yourself. Go pack some clothes for a few days and whatever else you might need. You're going to go stay with Severus. I'd take you home myself but Tonks hasn't been doing so well and…"

Harry nodded. Remus didn't need to say any more.

Like Grimmauld Place, Severus' home was located outside of Hogsmeade and surrounded by a thick patch of wood. It was a large two-story house with a wraparound porch. There was small pond behind the house and another building that Harry thought might be a stable. The whole setup looked far more expensive than Harry would expect someone on a teacher's salary to afford.

Severus sat on the front steps, mechanically puffing away on a cigarette. Several butts littered the grass around him. He hadn't spoken a single word to Harry in the five minutes he had been standing there.

"I didn't know you smoked," said Harry, saying anything to break the uncomfortable silence.

"I don't," said Severus as he tossed his current cigarette away and lit a fresh one. "But certain people drive me to drink and this is my compromise."

His eyes flickered over to the large overnight bag slung over Harry's shoulder. "You can take that up to the guest room. Up the stairs and last door on the right. Don't get comfortable. We're going out."  
  
"We are?"

"Yes. I'm already late." Severus' tone did not invite any more questions so Harry stepped past him to enter the house.

The interior was about what Harry would expect of Severus' home. Stark white walls with very dark-almost black-brown leather furniture. There were no personal effects or decorations except for a humongous Texas flag that covered up the entirety of a wall in the living room.

Knowing Severus was in a hurry, Harry did not dawdle and quickly found the guest room. Like the rest of the house it was sparsely furnished with only a bed and dresser. When he returned outside, Severus was already in his truck with Snuffles.

The ride through Hogsmeade was silent and uncomfortable. Uncomfortable, not only because of Severus' bad mood but because Snuffles had taken it upon himself to crawl up on Harry's lap so that he could poke his head out the window and let his long tongue flap in the wind. Droplets of dog droll continually splashed on Harry's face and he would have sworn he saw Severus' lips curl in amusement.

Severus turned onto a wide long road. Behind tall hedges and fences Harry saw flashes of large, elegant homes. As they went deeper, the houses were set further apart and grew bigger and grander. At the very end of the road was an intricately worked iron gate that seemed to open of it's own accord the very second Severus reached it.

"Who lives here?" asked Harry.

"The Malfoys."

Harry's head swung to look at Severus. "Draco, too?"

"Draco too."

Nervousness bubbled up in Harry. He didn't think he'd meet Draco's parents so soon, if at all even. While he wondered what business Severus had with the Malfoys, his real concern was making himself presentable. Harry fidgeted in his seat, trying to smooth the wrinkles out of his jeans and shirt. He was so very glad he had taken the time to shower while he waited for Sirius to return. Harry wanted to check himself out in the mirror, to make sure his hair was okay but Severus was already snickering at him.

His first thought of the Malfoy Home was that it looked like a miniature White House. Not that miniature could in any way describe the large house. It was roughly the size of Grimmauld Place but that's where the similarity ended. Whereas Sirius' home had been left to rot, everything here had been beautifully maintained, from the far-reaching landscaped lawns to the home itself. Even the dark tan brick that made up the circular drive in front of the house looked as though it had gotten a good scrub that very day.

A teeny tiny man in a black suit stood in the middle of the drive. He put Harry very much in mind of Kreacher though on his face he wore a welcoming, unKreacher-like smile.

The man walked up to Harry's door, opened it and waved a hand with a flourish.

"Welcome to Malfoy Estates, Mr. Potter," he said, as though Harry were some great dignitary.

"Umm, thanks."

"Mr. Snape," he then said with a cordial nod to Severus who had gotten out as well.

"Dobby," returned Severus, with a nod of his own.

Dobby crawled into the truck and turned it in the direction of a large garage. Harry wondered how he could possibly reach the pedals.

"Let's go," said Severus as he went to the tall double doors and walked right inside.

They entered a large hall with a curved marble staircase. A small group of men, Harry counted six in all, milled about, talking amongst themselves. He recognized two of them Nicky Zabini and Mr. Dumbledore. Nicky Zabini briefly halted his conversation to throw a friendly wave and Mr. Dumbledore smiled warmly at Harry.

Another stepped forward. No doubt Draco's father, thought Harry as he took in the blond hair and gray eyes. His gait was caught by a small hitch in his left leg though that did nothing to lessen his imposing presence. Harry's eyes latched on his snake tipped cane. Something about the style of it seemed familiar. He then realized it reminded him of the dragon Draco had given him. Perhaps they were made by the same person.

"Harry Potter! We finally meet. Draco has told me much about you."

"Nice to meet you, Mr…er…Senator Malfoy."

"No need to be so formal, Harry. You may call me Lucius."

Harry nodded and there was a long, awkward pause. He felt a blush creep up his cheeks. Lucius was staring at him. Openly and with intense scrutiny. Probably trying to decide if I am good enough for his son, decided Harry. But the gaze lingered far longer than was comfortable. It was a full minute before Lucius looked away.

"You must excuse me for staring, Harry," said Lucius, though he didn't seem sorry in the least. "It's just a little…eerie how much you Potter men always look alike."

Harry wanted to laugh. Lucius had no room to talk about eerie family resemblances. Though Draco was shorter and not as broad in the shoulder, he looked just a like a younger version of Lucius.

"Draco is going to keep you company while we attend to our business." Lucius walked over to the staircase and called out, "Draco!"

A few seconds later, Draco appeared at the top of the stairs. His face broke out into a huge grin and he ran down.

"I'll give you the grand tour," said Draco as he grabbed Harry's hand and dragged him up the stairs. "Starting with my room."

"Yes, well, you mind how you choose to occupy yourselves," Lucius said sternly. "And keep your bedroom door open."

"Oh Father!" said Draco, with a long-suffering sigh. "We aren't going to do anything. Even if we did, it's not like either one of us is going to get pregnant."

Harry flushed. He couldn't believe Draco would say that to his father. Let alone in front of Mr. Dumbledore. But he and a couple of the men laughed. Lucius and Severus, however, looked less than amused.

"A sound whipping will take care of that cheek," advised a robust black haired man with a thin moustache.

"Don't I know it, Walden," said Lucius, sounding long-suffering himself. "I truly regret letting Narcissa talk me out of spanking the boy when he was younger. Though-"Lucius gave his son a severe look. "It's never too late to start."

Draco cringed and there was considerably less pep in his step as they continued up the stairs.

"What's going on?" asked Harry when they had reached the landing. He looked down. It was such an unusual mix of men, some blue collar, others seemingly very affluent. Back in Surrey the classes didn't mix like this. You had your own kind and stuck to them. But the men below seemed to know each other very well and were quite friendly. Mr. Dumbledore was definitely the odd man out. He was much older than the rest who all seemed to be around the same age.

"That's one of the big mysteries of Hogsmeade," answered Draco. "According to Mother they have been meeting like this since forever. All of them come here once a month and go down to the basement. They stay down there until exactly midnight."

"What's in the basement? What do they do?"

"Just a lounge kind of thing and some storage. No one really knows what they do down there. That's why it's a big mystery. Blaise thinks they have these massive orgies but she's pretty perverted like that. Father swears they just drink brandy and play poker but really-"Draco's face twisted as if that was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. "He comes home just for these meetings when Congress is in session. People don't fly halfway across the country just to get drunk and play cards. And Walden Macnair there-"Draco pointed to the man who thought he needed a good spanking. "He missed the birth of his daughter 2 years ago just to come."

"Damn."

"Oh, it gets better," promised Draco. "You see that man next to Nicky Zabini?"

Harry nodded.

"That's Rabastan Lestrange. His brother Rodolphus is right next to him. Rodolphus is married to my Aunt Bellatrix. Anyway, Rabastan is a Colonel in the Army. During Desert Storm, he was stationed in Kuwait and Father actually flew them all the way to the fucking Middle East just so they could do whatever it is they do! I don't think we'll ever know. Blaise and I tried to sneak down there once but we got caught and were grounded for six months."

"That's crazy!"

"I know! Father always makes Mother and me leave on these nights. She's upstate visiting friends right now. I usually go with her but Severus had you and didn't want you at his house by yourself so Father asked me to stay."

"Does he think I'm going to steal something?"

"Probably," Draco said with a chuckle. "Don't take it personally. That's just the way he is. I have never seen him be nice to anyone but that dog of his. Why are you staying with him, anyway? Father said something about Sirius getting arrested."

Harry frowned and gave a quick recant of the morning's events as they walked to Draco's room.

Draco looked at Harry with concern. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"No," said Harry, shrugging. "Just confused. I don't know why the Dementors came after me. It was really kinda weird, though. That Karkaroff guy acted like he knew me or something. Maybe he knew my Father. Everyone says I look just like him."

"Could be…" mused Draco. "Well, here we are, my room."

Walking into Draco's room was like walking into a different century. A kind sized bed with a green canopy and curtains dominated the room. A large matching armoire, made from the same heavy dark wood of the bed stood across from it. Everything in the room was well preserved but looked very old, more fitting in some fairy tale castle. The only thing that looked like it had remotely come from the 20th century was an old wind up Victrola in the corner.

"You bought that Victrola in Ollivander's," said Harry.

"No, I made Father buy me that when I was four."

Harry blinked. What kind of four year old wants a Victrola?

"Do you want me to play something?" asked Draco. "You'll really love the way it sounds. It's so much better than a CD player."

Draco went over to the Victrola and began sorting through the records in the case below it.

"You wouldn't happen to have any Aerosmith in there, would you?" asked Harry.

Draco laughed. "Oh, I don't listen to anything modern."

Harry looked at the records Draco did have. At this point, he was completely unsurprised to see that for Draco, modern meant anything produced in the last 100 years.

"How about some Beethoven?"

"Sure." It mattered little to Harry. Classical music sounded all the same to him.

While Draco fiddled with the Victrola, Harry explored the rest of Draco's room. There was a stand that held several crystal balls of varying sizes, a pile of small stones Harry recognized as runes, and an Ouija board. Next to it was a bookcase in which all the books were about the occult, witchcraft, and coin collecting.

Harry looked around, taking everything in, then asked, "So you're kinda, umm, quirky, huh?"

"Quirky?" There was a bit of a pout to Draco's voice but he was smiling. "Is that supposed to be a nice way of saying you think I'm weird?"

"Maybe," said Harry, smiling as well. "I guess we are both fortunate that I happen to like weird boys."

"Glad to hear it. I don't do normal very well. So…what do you want to do?"

You.

The thought came unbidden to Harry and he nearly spoke it aloud. He bit down on his tongue. How ironic, thought Harry. Just days ago he was worried about Draco only wanting to get in his pants. Now Harry was the one who couldn't stop thinking about…doing things. Especially after seeing that huge bed of Draco's. Harry eyed it and turned a violent red. Luckily, Draco did not notice.

"We could go out," said Draco. "But I have a 7 o'clock curfew and since it's almost six it would be rather pointless."

"Why so early?"

"Well, it was eight. But I was late last night and Father upped it to seven." Draco grimaced. "It's his way of punishing me. I should be the one punishing him for sending me off to Vanessa."

"Who is Vanessa?"

"My Father's mother."

"You don't call her 'grandmother'?"

A dark look passed Draco's face. "Oh no, Harry. That woman is not my grandmother. Grandmothers are sweet little ladies who bake you cookies. Vanessa is an old bitch who most likely wishes I were never born. She only talks to me because Father makes her." Draco scratched at his chin. "I never understood why she hates me so much. I never did anything to her but exist. I guess that was enough."

"Sounds like she could be related to the Dursleys."

Draco lifted a questioning eyebrow.

"Those are the people who I lived with before Sirius adopted me."

At Draco's request, Harry went into a vague account of his life with the Dursleys. He glossed over much of the really horrific stuff. Now that he was around people who actually cared for him, his previous existence seemed so sadly pathetic. Sirius asked about it from time to time but Harry didn't like to talk about it with him. If he mentioned something even dimly bad, Sirius would get this tragic look and act like everything was his fault.

But Draco was different. He listened sympathetically but did not make Harry feel like he was being pitied. And he knew what it was like to be so disliked, so devalued as a person by someone who, presumably, was supposed to love you. In the end, both boys decided that some people just truly fucking suck and left it at that.

To their surprise almost two hours had past while they had talked. It was only an unrelenting rumbling in their stomachs that stopped the flow of dialogue. They went to the kitchen where Dobby had two piping hot plates of food waiting as if he had been expecting them at that very moment. Snuffles sat in a corner, on a large blanket, gnawing away at a large bone.

They ate right at the kitchen table and Dobby stood nearby, ready to attend to their every need. Once again, Harry was struck at the similarity between Dobby and Kreacher.

"Are you related to a man named Kreacher?" Harry finally asked.

"No," said Dobby. "But we did come here together."

No? How could they not be related? Harry boggled over that for a moment then asked. "Here, as in Hogsmeade?"

"Yes. We originally hail from a small community in England."

"Father says Dobby used to sound really strange when he first came here," said Draco.

Dobby smiled widely. "Yes, I had a rather strong accent back then. It would have been a bit peculiar to a young American boy."

A loud chime sounded, indicating someone had rung the doorbell. Dobby gave a small bow and said, "Pardon me."

"I just don't know what we would do without Dobby," said Draco as he watched the man retreat. "He does everything around here."

"I thought he would surely be related to Kreacher."

Draco shrugged. "Maybe there's some village of incredibly short servants with bald heads and big ears over in England."

They soon discovered that the person who had rung the doorbell was Blaise. She came rushing into the kitchen with a huge grin on her face.

"What are you doing here, Blaise?" asked Draco.

"I came to get the dirt!" She turned to Harry. "Dude! I heard you started a big ol' fucking gang war up in Durmstrang!"

His eyes grew wide. "I didn't start anything! And how do you know about it?"

"It was on the news!"

Harry's fork fell to his plate with a deafening clank. "I was on the news?"

"No. I learned that part from my Dad. Sirius and the rest stopped by the station to gas up before going to Durmstrang. They told him what happened. Man, I wished could have been there to see that shit!"

"What did the news say?" Harry asked quietly.

"Not much. Just that there was over twenty thousand in property damage and four people had to go to the hospital. And they kept flashing Sirius' old mug shot from back when he was arrested in the eighties."

Harry palmed his forehead. The last thing Sirius needed was to be in the news again. Despite being cleared beyond a doubt there were some people who still believed him to be a murderer. They would give him looks in the street or walk across them to avoid passing him. Sirius tried to act like it didn't bother him but Harry knew it did. And it was going to get worse now that he had been connected to another violent act.

"Don't worry, Harry," Draco said softly. "In a few days, everyone will have forgotten about it."

"Not fucking likely," said Blaise. "Sirius is pretty famous around here and-"

"Blaise!" snapped Draco. "Shut up!"

"God! Rudeness!" exclaimed Blaise, but she did shut up.

Harry rubbed at his temples in the suddenly silent kitchen. For a few hours he had managed to forget about Sirius' situation but now it was back in the forefront of his mind. A sickly feeling descended over him. Remus thought he could get him off with just a hefty fine. What if he was wrong? What if Sirius got sent back to prison? Where would he go? Not back to the fucking Dursleys that's for sure. He's run away before that happened. Harry felt guilty. He should not be worrying about himself when Sirius might be locked up again.

Dobby set a cup of steaming tea in front of Harry. "Drink this, Mr. Potter. It might make you feel better."

He didn't particularly like hot tea but he sipped it anyway. Snuffles came over and started licking away at Harry's hand. The tea did seem to ebb away at his misery and by the time Harry finished he was feeling pretty damn good. Like everything was going to be all right.

Harry stared into the now empty teacup. "What was in this?"

"Just a bit of chamomile," said Dobby as he removed the dishes.

Draco grinned. "There's always been something magical about Dobby's teas."

Realizing Harry wasn't going to give her 'the dirt' about the incident with the Dementors, Blaise soon decided she had better ways to spend her Saturday night. Once she was gone, Draco gave the promised grand tour, showing off his favorite places. He ended the expedition with what he proclaimed the "best room in the place". It was a large room just off the library and its only purpose appeared to be to exhibit hundreds, if not thousands of coins.

"Wow," said Harry. "You're really into this coin collecting thing, aren't you?"

"Well, I told you Malfoys really like money," said Draco as he wiped some imaginary dust off a case. "Father is worse than I am. He likes the very rare, uncirculated coins. His collection is valued at over five million dollars and he keeps them in a vault at the bank. These are all mine. Some of them are very valuable but I mostly prefer the more common ones. The kind you might accidentally stumble across in a random pile of change. It's like discovering buried treasure."

Draco showed Harry the cherished among his collection and waxed poetic about the art of coin collecting. Though he had no real interest in the hobby, it was fascinating listening to Draco speak so fervently about the subject. Harry had a feeling he could go on forever. Then, the lights suddenly went out.

"What the fuck!" said Draco as they went out to see what had happened.

"This often occurs on these nights," said Dobby, appearing out of nowhere with a battery-operated lantern. "The lights should return at midnight."

"Well, isn't that great! What does Father expect us to do without any electricity?"

Harry could think of quite a few things they do in the dark. But he wasn't nearly bold enough to suggest them. Instead he took Draco's hand and took him to a set of French doors that led to a small sitting garden.

"It won't be so bad, Draco," said Harry. "At least now we can see all the stars. I never get to see them out at Grimmauld Place. Sirius always keeps everything lit up like a torch."

There were few things Harry enjoyed more than looking at the stars. It was his favorite pastime back in Surrey. He loved seeing how vast the universe truly was. He loved knowing that there was so much more out there than his horrible home with the Dursleys. It had given him hope and he would fantasize for hours of a different place, a different life. Harry realized he hadn't sought out the stars since arriving in Hogsmeade. Perhaps he didn't need to anymore.

"I don't like looking at the stars, Harry."

There was something in Draco's voice that made Harry cease his star gazing to look at the boy.

"Why not?"

Draco opened his mouth to speak then shut it. Harry was surprised to see him blush.

"You'll think I'm weird."

"I already think you're weird," said Harry with an encouraging smile. "You know that."

Draco gave a small laugh then swept his eyes across the sky. "Well, looking at them and seeing everything that's out there…I feel lost, like I'm not really where I am supposed to be. Pretty stupid, huh?"

"I don't think so. I felt that way all the time back in Surrey. Like I wasn't supposed to be there. I used to think that this couldn't possibly be the life God intended for me. But then I came to Hogsmeade. I feel like I belong here. I guess you don't then?"

"Sometimes I do. Like when…" Draco broke off and the blush returned.

"Tell me!"

Draco shook his head and looked away. Harry decided not to press the issue.

They lingered in the garden, talking about everything and nothing as they sat on a padded bench. As much as Harry liked simply talking to Draco, he grew restless as the night passed. Draco hadn't tried to kiss him once this whole evening. He hadn't even looked as though he wanted to, apparently content just to talk.

Harry certainly wasn't. He intently watched Draco's lips move as he spoke. He barely heard a word Draco said, thinking of better ways he might engage that mouth.

Maybe Draco was waiting for him to make the first move. But just how was Harry supposed to do that? In the movies there was always a perfect time for a kiss. Harry saw no such moment now. Did he just do it? It seemed kind of rude to interrupt Draco like that. Should he ask first?

Harry bit his bottom lip. God! Why couldn't Draco just kiss him first? It would solve all his problems.

There was a lull in the conversation. The garden was silent save for the constant serenade of cicadas. Moonlight glistened off Draco's wet lips. This was his moment. A movie moment, if you will. Harry gathered his courage and slowly scooted closer to Draco on the bench. All right, he was going to do it.

"Draco?" Harry whispered softly.

Draco turned and Harry went in for the kill.

He closed his eyes and parted his lips.

And got a mouth full of nose.

The two boys broke apart quickly. Harry held his mouth. Draco, his nose.

How could his aim been so fucking off?

He knew this was a bad idea. Why did he do it? Why couldn't he have just suffered in silence?

"Harry?" asked Draco, sounding very nasally as he was still clutching his nose. "Were you trying to kiss me?"

"No!" Harry denied emphatically, finding great interest in a small thatch of peonies.

"Then were you trying to bite my nose off?"

"I just sorta…fell. I'm sorry."

"So am I. I had really hoped you were trying to kiss me."

Harry didn't know what to do or say. He just wanted to go off somewhere and die.

"So do you want to? Do you want to kiss me?"

Harry's entire face burned, right to the very tips of his ears. He managed to choke out a "yes".

Draco laughed and jerked Harry off the bench. "Let's go. Unless you want to molest me right in front of Dobby. He's been lurking about, making sure we don't ravish each other on Mother's prize roses."

Harry was still too mortified to speak properly. He let Draco silently lead him through the dark house and up to his room.

Draco shut his bedroom door and locked it with a sly grin. He went to his bed and laid down on it with his arms lying across his chest. "I believe I have a kiss coming."

Harry stared down at him. Draco looked so peaceful. So anticipatory, with his lips slightly parted. In this fairytaleish room Harry thought he looked like a male Sleeping Beauty waiting for some prince to wake him up from a long slumber. Harry guessed he was the prince given their positions, though, for some reason, Harry thought he was really the Sleeping Beauty.

But he was the one with the kiss to give. Now, how to go about it. Did he simply bend over and do it? Should he lay next Draco? Would it be presumptuous to get on top of him?

Harry contemplated each option for several moments.

Draco popped an eye open. "Why are you just standing there? You can't be shy now."

He grabbed both of Harry's arms and pulled him onto the bed. Soon, Draco was on top of Harry, straddling his stomach.

"Oh, Harry," said Draco, patiently, as if trying to explain the mysteries of the universe to a small child. "You think too much about these things."

He reached down to smooth the hair off Harry's forehead then gave it a small kiss. "I know you're not experienced." Another kiss to Harry's right temple. "Don't worry about messing up." Yet another along the side of his jaw. "Just do what ever feels good to you. Trust me, it will make me happy too."

Draco rolled off Harry and returned to his former position. He dramatically swept his arms apart and with his eyes closed once more, he said, "Now kiss me."

Harry leaned into the boy and tried not to think too hard about what he was doing. He kissed the corner of Draco's mouth, parting his lips just enough to let the moisture of his mouth touch Draco's skin.

He felt Draco grin beneath his lips. That was a good sign.

Palming Draco's cheek, he turned him to face him. Harry's lips slide to fully capture Draco's. His tongue lashed across the slit of Draco's mouth, forcing him to open it. Harry paused. Now what was he supposed to do? Just put his tougue in there? God, he was hopeless! Their first kiss wasn't nearly this bad. But that time Draco had pretty much done everything. Now, Draco wasn't helping him one bit.

"Stop thinking about it," murmured Draco.

Easier said than done, thought Harry.

He pressed against Draco, slowly moving his lips. Their teeth clashed and Harry started to pull away but Draco held him tight.

So maybe he wasn't the best kisser. Maybe he was a little clumsy. Maybe there was too much teeth and not enough tougue.

It didn't matter.

Harry stopped thinking.

He just felt.

He felt the velvety texture of Draco's tougue as he massaged it with his own.

He felt the smoothness of Draco's lips as he licked at them and sucked them into his mouth.

Harry relaxed, letting his body melt against Draco. He kissed Draco for what seemed like hours, lost of in the taste and feel of him.

Just do what ever felt good. And for Harry, touching and kissing as much of Draco as he could is what felt good at the moment.

He ran his lips down Draco's chin into the soft contours of his neck. His breath ran hot and cold against the spit slicked skin.

Harry let his hands roam all over Draco's body. Draco moaned under Harry's attention. He seemed to like that. Harry liked it too.

After hesitating for a moment, Harry brazenly dipped his hand lower and cupped Draco through his pants. He was thrilled to find Draco as rigid as himself. Draco gasped and arched into Harry.

"Oh God, Harry! Don't do that!" Draco exclaimed even though he continued to grind against Harry's hand.

Harry promptly removed his hand, like he had been burned. Had he gone to far? Draco had certainly acted like he wanted it.

"I'm sorry! I shouldn't have assumed-"  
  
Draco silenced him with a kiss. "Don't apologize." he said breathlessly. "I want you to. God! I want you touch me everywhere. But-"Draco gave a tearful look to the clock ticking away on the wall. It was almost midnight. Where had the time gone? "They are going to be done soon and will come looking for us. I don't want to start something we can't finish. It will be worse than not doing anything at all."

Harry nodded and Draco kissed him again. It was a soft kiss, meant to please but not excite. They were still at it a few minutes later when the lights came on.

Draco blinked into the sudden brightness. "Ah, looks like the ball is over, Cinderella. Our carriage reverts back into a pumpkin."

Harry didn't want to leave Draco's bed, nor the comforting heat of his body. Unfortunately, he could already hear Severus calling for him from below.

"I'll come and see you tomorrow, if I can," said Draco as he walked Harry out. "We have to go to a charity luncheon and I don't know if we will be back before my curfew."

Severus barely glanced at Harry when they arrived downstairs but Harry stared at him. Severus did not look like a man who had just spent the night getting drunk. He looked flushed and slightly tired but definitely sober. He had a certain radiance about him. A sparkle. Perhaps it was just the excitement from being with Draco but Harry thought Severus looked freshly fucked. All of them did, Harry now saw as he snuck a peek at the other men, saying their goodbyes. There was no other way to describe it. They looked freshly fucked. Perhaps Blaise wasn't too far off with her orgy idea.

No! Severus wouldn't cheat on Sirius. Not with Draco's father. Not with Mr. Dumbledore! Would he?

What had they been doing down there? And why had it made the lights go out? Harry knew better than to ask, though the questions ate away at him. Draco watched them as well, a similar look of suspicious inquiry on his face.

"Let's go, boy," said Severus, walking out the door, not looking back to see if Harry was following him.

Harry said goodbye to Draco than ran to catch up.

Severus clearly expected Harry to go right to bed when they returned to his house. Harry was far from tired but did not argue. He much preferred being alone when he was in such a stimulated state.

He laid listlessly in his bed, thinking of Draco and everything they had done that night and everything they might do in the future. Harry waited until he was certain Severus was asleep then retrieved a ratty old t-shirt from his bag. He did not want to have to explain why he needed new bed sheets after one night. He wrapped it around himself and for the second night in a row, Harry had a furious wank before going to sleep. He wondered if Draco was doing the same.

Harry thought it might be a little exciting to stay with Severus.

He was completely wrong.

Severus had neither a TV nor radio. Only books. Lots and lots of books. And every single one of them devoted to chemistry. After watching Harry mope around the house all morning, Severus threw a heavy textbook at him and told he could get a head start on the school year. Having nothing else to do, Harry did just that and flipped through the first few chapters. He soon grew bored and took to staring at Severus.

They were both in Severus' large den. Harry in a large chair and Severus, behind a desk, clicking away at a computer. It was one of the rare times when Severus wasn't wearing his hat. He had a pair of thin glasses perched on the very tip of his large nose and Harry thought he looked quite scholarly, like the scientist he was.

"I hope you have better things to do than stare at me all day," said Severus.

Harry didn't.

"Go read something, if you're so bored."

Harry pursed his lips and then went to reexamine Severus' bookshelves. Perhaps he had missed something non-chemistry the first time around. He had just about given up hope when he spotted a large photo album tucked away in a far corner. Harry pulled it out and settled into a niche away from Severus' eyes. Harry had a feeling Severus wouldn't like him looking at it but Harry was curious and well, you should never leave a bored teenager to his own devices.

The first several pages were of old pictures and news clippings. They showed the same man riding a wild bronco in various rodeos. The man looked very much like Severus and Harry figured it was Severus' father. The following pages revealed that Severus, himself, had been a rodeo star in his late teens and twenties. The truly priceless part was that Severus had apparently gotten his start as a rodeo clown. Harry had to bit his fist from laughing aloud. He quickly passed those pages, lest he die of hysterics.

Something clicked and Harry turned back to look at an adolescent Severus Snape in an orange wig and white grease paint. He stared and this time there was no holding back the laughter.

"Give me that!" shouted Severus. He yanked the album away. A single photo dropped out it and fell to the ground face down.

"You were the clown at my birthday party!"

"I was not!"

"You were!" Harry wiped a tear away. "I wondered why Sirius kept getting those balloon animals. I thought he had a clown fetish!"  
  
"I really have no idea what you are talking about!" Severus slammed the album back on the shelf and stalked away.

"You missed one," said Harry, his voice still ringing with amusement. He leaned down and picked it up. It was a close up of a young Severus. God, thought Harry, Severus was pretty fucking hot back then. But it was the pretty redheaded woman leaning behind Severus that really caught Harry's attention. She had her fingers in the corners of Severus' mouth, trying to make him smile. Harry liked looking at her. He had to make himself hand it over to Severus.

"Who is she? Was she a good friend of yours?"

Severus snapped the picture from Harry and looked at it. His prior irritation dissolved into something else. Something that disturbed Harry.

"Is that supposed to be a bad joke?"

Harry felt sobered and looked anywhere but at Severus. "No. Sorry I asked. I was just curious."

"You don't know who she is?" He gave the picture back to Harry.

Harry shrugged. "Is she a Weasley? With that red hair…"

"No, she was a Evans, then a Potter. That's your Mother."

"Is she really?" Harry asked, as if he expected Severus to lie to him.

"You mean to tell me you've never seen a picture of your mother?"

Harry ignored the question to ask one of his own. "Do you have one of my father?"

"It will be a cold day in hell before there's a picture of James Potter in this house!" Severus looked like he immediately regretted his words. "No, I don't," he said, his voice a little less snappish. "I'm sorry."

It was days like these that Draco truly hated being the son of a politician. A day full of hearty handshakes and fake smiles. A day full of pretending that he actually gave a fuck about some stupid endangered bird whose only purpose, as far as he could tell, was to crap all over his car.

Thank God it was finally over.

Only an hour to go and he'd be back in Hogsmeade. But for now, he was stuck in the Malfoy limo, privy to the rather disgusting display of his parents' lust. Really. Why didn't they just get a fucking room? What makes them think he wants to see all that?

"Draco," said Lucius, finally managing to tear himself away from Narcissa to knowledge he had a son in the car. "Quit sulking. It wasn't that bad. And since you were so good today, I am willing to extend your curfew until 9."

Oh! Nine o'clock!

"Thank you, Father. That's so very generous of you."

Lucius frowned. "Why yes, it is. Don't think I didn't notice those marks on your neck. I will not having you looking like a leopard. I expect you to show a little more decorum in the future."  
  
The nerve of that man, talking about decorum, with his hand steadily snaking up Narcissa's thigh for the last two hours!

It seriously strained Draco, not to roll his eyes. Instead he pursed his lips, stared out the window, and tried to ignore his parents for the rest of the ride. His ear did, however, perk up when he heard them discussing Sirius Black.

"You know," began Draco. "We really ought to help him."

Lucius and Narcissa looked at him like he had lost his mind.

"This should be good," said Narcissa, sending Lucius an amused look. "Help him how?"

"Get him off. You two know important people in Durmstrang you can persuade."

"And by persuade, you mean threaten and bribe?" asked Lucius.

"Well, yeah."

"Why would we do that?"

Because it would make Harry happy.

"Because he's family?"

That brought a scornful laugh from Lucius and Narcissa.

"Do it for Severus."

All traces of amusement left Lucius' face. "Severus' life would be much better without that man in it."

Draco sighed. "Then do it for me!"

"For you?" asked Narcissa, confused. "Tell us, how is your life affected by Sirius Black's possible incarceration?"

"Well…If Sirius gets sent away then Harry will have to go back to his mean, awful relatives. It would make me so very sad to know Harry had to live that way. Why, I might get so depressed, my grades slip. Then I won't get into a good university and will probably end up in some crappy community college studying Hotel Management." Draco glared at his parents. "Is that what you want for me? To spend the rest of my life working at the Holiday Inn?"

"Your argument is rather moot," said Lucius, sharply. "Even if Sirius were to be sent away, he has friends that will see to it that Harry is taken care of, just as they are doing now."

"You don't know that for sure!"

"And what are your feelings on this?" Lucius asked Narcissa.

"There's certainly never been any love lost between Sirius and me," said Narcissa as she curled up to Lucius. She smiled at Draco. "But where's the fun in having money and power if you don't get to abuse it from time to time?"

"I thought you might say something like that." Lucius said, smirking, as he nuzzled against Narcissa, his voice muffled by her neck. "I'll see what I can do."

Draco sat back content in his seat and the rest of the trip flew by. On arriving home, Draco immediately proceeded to Severus'. He couldn't wait to tell Harry the good news. Lucius had said "no promises" but Draco knew it was as good as done. Nothing could hold up against the Malfoy persuasion.

He found Harry sitting on the front porch staring dreamily into his lap. His eyes were a bit pink as if he wanted to cry but hadn't.

Draco tilted his head and studied him. Harry didn't even seem to notice he had arrived.

"Harry? Are you okay? If you are upset about Sirius, don't be because my father is going to help get him off."

"That's good to hear," said Harry, still not looking up.

Draco frowned. Something was very odd here. He walked up to the porch and sat beside Harry. In Harry's lap was an old photo of Severus and some woman. Harry clutched it tightly, like it was a security blanket and he, a frighten child.

"That's my mom," said Harry, breaking into a goofy grin.

"She was very pretty," offered Draco. He paused. "Harry, you act like you've never seen her before."

"I haven't, not til today."

Draco was momentarily struck speechless. "How can you go seventeen years and not see a picture of your mother?"

Harry looked up and swallowed hard. "I used to ask my Aunt Petunia all the time if she had any pictures of my parents but she would yell at me and I learned not to ask anymore. So I made up my own idea of what they looked like. Eventually it became so real I forgot that I really didn't know."

"What about Sirius? He must have had some pictures!"

"I didn't ask," said Harry, so softly Draco almost didn't hear him. Harry seemed to shudder with a weighty quilt he could not bear. "Isn't that terrible of me? I didn't even think to ask."

He still should have shown you some, Draco thought unkindly. He was so wrapped up in his indignation that he was too late to stop Harry when he jumped up and ran around the corner of the porch. Something broke in Draco when he heard the subdued choke of someone forcing himself not to cry. He started to go after him when a new voice called out his name.

It was Severus, poking his head out of the house. He motioned for Draco to enter. Draco hesitantly complied.

"He's been out there all day, looking at that picture," said Severus, nodding at a window through which Harry's pacing silhouette could be seen.

"Why hasn't Sirius shown him pictures of his parents?" Draco asked angrily.

"I don't know, but Black and I will be having a conversation about it soon." Severus rubbed tiredly at his nose. "He wants to see a photo of his father but I don't have any. And I haven't been able to reach Remus Lupin. There's only one place where I know there might be one and I want you to take him there."

"Sure, where?"

"Godric's Hollow."

"G-Godric's Hollow?" Draco felt a shiver run through him at the very name. "You're going too, right?"

"No, I can't go to that place." Severus sneered at the look Draco gave him. "I have my reasons and they have nothing to do with fear. It's just a damn house, Draco. Get over it. Now, are you going to do this for Harry or not?"

For Harry…

"Yeah," Draco mumbled weakly.

There you have it. Next up, Godric's Hollow. I wanted to get it in this chapter but it was already so long.

And I know it may seem very odd that Harry didn't even think to ask to see a picture of his parents yet. I can speak from personal experience that it does happen. I was raised by relatives myself, and don't have the slightest clue what my father looks like. Most of the time I don't even think of people as even having parents. I kinda saw this in canon!Harry in the beginning books and decided to write this AU!Harry the same. At this point, Harry's parents are almost like an abstract idea to him. Not quite real. That's partially why he didn't act so strongly when he found out about their murder. But, very soon, they are going to become very very real to him and angst shall ensue.

If the next chapter goes as planned, it will be rated NC-17. Since ff.net does not allow NC-17 content, an R version will be posted here and the NC-17 version will be posted elsewhere. I am not sure how I am going to go about it. I have been thinking of creating a yahoo group for such things. Would there be any interest in that?

Also, I have come to realize that I am desperate need of a beta. I thought I wasn't doing too bad without one but then I reread the last chapters and found some truly embarrassing mistakes. I think I corrected most of them but I am not fully confident in that. If you would like to volunteer I would prefer that you contact me privately at madammaliciayahoo.com or contact me on Y!IM under the same name.

Thanks and please review!


	5. Chapter Five

Title: Repetitions

Pairing: H/D

Rating: PG-13 to R

Warnings: Complete AU, Set in America, Slash, WIP

Beta: SolarisDay

Summary: Orphaned Harry Potter is adopted by Sirius Black just before his 17th birthday. In his new town he begins a relationship with Draco Malfoy and tries to uncover the mystery of his parent's death.

AN: First of all I would like to send a big big thanks out to SolarisDay, my new beta. She did a bang up job and made this chapter so much better than it was.

Thank you so much for your lovely reviews. I enjoyed reading every one of them.

Some of you commented that it was a bit hard to read the proceeding chapters. I am not sure what happened but the dividers I used somehow disappeared. I will fix them soon. Also, the last chapter I promised smut. Well that didn't quite happen as Harry is a whiny little bitch with low self esteem and things didn't go as I had anticipated. Plus I pushed the scene that led to the smut to the next chapter as things were getting a bit long. Anyway, on with the story.

0000000  
  
Draco didn't say so, but this was not the first time he would be visiting Godric's Hollow.  
  
It was such a silly little game, played by bored adolescents on their idle weekend nights. Five points if you touched the front step, ten if you made it to the door. A hundred if you were bold enough to break inside, not that anyone ever was. Draco had earned sixty points and the esteem of his peers in the ninth grade for daring to carve his name on an outside wall. He had nearly pissed himself with fear the entire time and he'd had nightmares for weeks afterward. Draco hoped it had weathered away by now. Call him crazy, but he figured Harry wouldn't like that he had vandalized his parents' home.  
  
Godric's Hollow wasn't particularly special, to only look at it. Located on a small hill by the high school, it was very much like many of the other large old houses that dotted Hogsmeade's landscape. The house was made of a dark red brick with brown wood trimmings and was in surprisingly good shape for a place that had been empty for so long. In fact, if some brave family wanted to move in, they could probably do so tomorrow. Not that it would ever happen. Even the few nearby houses remained vacant, their previous residents having long decided they didn't want to live anywhere near Godric's Hollow.  
  
No, Godric's Hollow didn't leave any type of visual impact. It didn't even look haunted like Grimmauld Place. If some random person, unfamiliar with its tragic history, should see the house from afar, they'd probably forget it before they looked away.  
  
One had to be there to experience the horror of Godric's Hollow. There was something about the house that chilled Draco to the very marrow of his bones. Normally, he had an odd fascination for the strange, the dark and the downright spooky; but never for this place. It made him feel as though his soul was being sucked out, leaving him suffocated and gasping for air.  
  
Harry, however, was completely oblivious and had a great excitement about him. Although Draco was pleased that Harry had cheered up considerably, it was not a feeling he shared. Harry did not seem to realize that he was supposed to be afraid of the house. He walked right up to the front door and rattled the doorknob.  
  
"Severus didn't happen to give you a key, did he?" yelled Harry.  
  
"No," said Draco, from where he stood next to his car that was parked a good many yards away. It was as close as he dared to go.  
  
Harry shook the door a bit harder and it opened right up. "That was easy. Just anyone could break right in."  
  
No worries there, thought Draco. No one would be stupid enough to attempt it.  
  
"You coming?"  
  
Draco squared his shoulders and slowly trudged forward. He clenched his muscles as he passed over the threshold, expecting to be struck down. He let out a breath when nothing happened.  
  
He entered a small foyer that opened to a formal living room. Harry stood in the middle of it, looking around at everything.  
  
For a few seconds Draco's fear morphed into shock. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting but it wasn't this. It was if time had stood still in the house. All the original furniture and accents remained, right down to a small crystal ashtray on the coffee table. There was not a speck of dust anywhere. The dark wood of the mantle above the fireplace gleamed as though it had recently shined.  
  
The house looked so normal; welcoming, even. This should have eased Draco's fears, but it did just the opposite. A house that had been abandoned for sixteen years should not look like this.  
  
"I think this is him!" said Harry as he bounded toward the mantle and grabbed a small framed photo resting on it.  
  
He took the photo to the couch and pulled out the one of his mother. His head bobbed back and forth between the photos.  
  
"He really does look just like me," Harry said suddenly, startling Draco. "Are you okay?"  
  
"Yeah," said Draco, reaching out to take the proffered photo. He was immensely proud that his hand did not shake.  
  
Harry's resemblance to his father was uncanny, although the messy black hair, in the picture, was styled in a seventies shag, and the eyes were a light hazel rather than green.  
  
Harry moved to the other photos on the mantle. Most of them of were of James, Lily and baby Harry. He spent a particularly long time smiling at a family portrait of them all together. The smile turned into a frown when he picked up another photo, this one of a thin blonde woman and beefy man. An obscenely fat baby sat between them.  
  
"I can't believe they had a picture of the Dursleys," Harry said tightly. "I guess the feelings of animosity were not mutual."  
  
He slammed the photo back on the mantle face down. Draco heard the distinct sound of glass breaking.  
  
Harry turned away from it, unconcerned and said, "I want to take a look at the rest of the house."  
  
Draco thought that was a horrible idea. He wanted to take Harry and leave this place. But he couldn't, knowing how important this was for Harry.  
  
"This isn't bad at all," said Harry as they explored the first floor. Each room was as neat and normal as the last. They had paused in the kitchen and Harry rifled through the drawers and cabinets. He pulled out an ancient box of crackers. "It's amazing that all this stuff is still here. It's almost like someone lives here and is just gone for the day. The way Ron talked, I was expecting a house of horrors. I wonder who owns this place now. They obviously keep it up."  
  
"Maybe," said Draco, though he didn't believe it. Draco would be very surprised if anyone, besides them, had set foot in this house in years. "But...it belonged to your parents and since you were their only child, I would think the house would go to you."  
  
"I'll have to ask Sirius," said Harry, biting his lip in contemplation. He looked thrilled at the prospect.  
  
Harry began looking at the refrigerator door, which was covered in colorful little notes and random snapshots. Draco stood idly by, staring down a small corridor he had just noticed. Something sharp and prickly stabbed its way down Draco's spine but he still felt compelled to walk down it. At the end of the corridor was a set of closed French doors. Despite himself, Draco opened them.  
  
It was a large room and Draco guessed that it might have once been the family room. The room was devoid of anything save a rolled up carpet in the corner. But it was the walls that Draco stared at.  
  
The walls were bathed in blood. The blood had long dried into a dark brown but there was no mistaking what it was.  
  
Vomit gurgled up in Draco's throat and he forced it back down. He took a deep breath and quietly shut the doors with trembling hands. This was obviously where the murders had taken place. He could not let Harry see this. He spent several moments controlling his breathing then returned to the kitchen. Harry was still busy reading the notes on the refrigerator and hadn't noticed that Draco left.  
  
"Umm, Harry, I hate to do this-" He really didn't. "But it's nearing seven and my curfew..."  
  
Thankfully, he had not yet told Harry his curfew had been extended. Draco had wanted to spend those remaining hours with Harry but he needed any excuse to get him out of the house.  
  
Harry was disappointed but understanding. They quickly headed for the front door though they paused in the living room to retrieve as many pictures of James and Lily as they could. After dropping Harry off, Draco zoomed in the direction of his own house. He was in sore need of one of Dobby's teas.  
  
Draco tried to stop it but thoughts and images of that room assaulted his mind. It had shaken him, terribly. He couldn't imagine Harry's reaction; it would be terrible. The implication of what had happened in that room was devastating. Harry would want to go back to Godric's Hollow, and soon. Draco couldn't prevent him from seeing it forever...unless...  
  
Of course! The answer was obvious. He needed to act quickly. But he would need help and as much as it would burn him to ask, there was only person who Draco knew might provide it.  
  
Despite his desperation for tea-induced respite, Draco turned away from his house and ten minutes later was in one of Hogsmeade's poorer neighborhoods. His expensive, flashy car stood out amongst the rusty claptraps that lined the street. He pulled up to a most ill-conceived structure.  
  
It had once been a very small shotgun style house, but several additions had been made over time, with no regard to the existing structure or previous architectural style. Brick, vinyl siding, even the odd bit of stucco made up its haphazard exterior. A long series of colorful garden gnomes dotted the walkway up to the front door. Draco held on to his urge to kick them with great restraint.  
  
The youngest Weasley answered his knock. She was very surprised to find Draco Malfoy at the door, asking to talk to Ron. After a moment's hesitation she let him inside and went to get her brother.  
  
The interior clashed just as badly as the outside, and Draco highly doubted that even two matching forks could be found within its walls. He hoped the Weasel would hurry up so that he could be on his way. The horrid décor was an affront to his good sense of style.  
  
"Malfoy!" Ron practically growled as he came into view. "What the hell do you want?"  
  
"We need to talk," Draco said simply. He nodded at Ginny who was curiously looking on. "Privately. It's about Harry."  
  
A look of deep suspicion passed Ron's face but he motioned for Draco to follow him to an outside deck.  
  
"All right, spill it."  
  
"Listen," began Draco. "I'm going to make this short and sweet. Harry and I went to Godric's Hollow tonight and I saw the room where his parents were murdered. It's...still covered in blood."  
  
Ron blanched severely. "Harry must have freaked out when he saw that."  
  
"Harry didn't see anything," said Draco. "I made him leave before he could. He doesn't know all that blood is still there and I'd like to keep it that way. I can't think of any good reason why he needs to know." Draco paused. Once his next words were out, there would be no turning back. As much as he did not want to return to Godric's Hollow, he needed to. "So tomorrow, in the morning, I'm going back there to paint over the blood...and you're going to help me."  
  
He waited for Ron to stammer his way through all the reasons and excuses he had for not going. Though Draco was loath to spare any charitable thoughts for the boy, he couldn't blame him for refusing to help. God knows Draco probably would if the roles were reversed.  
  
Instead, Ron stared intently at Draco as though he was trying to figure him out. He nodded, slowly, after a short while, and said, "I'll ask the twins to come along. It will go faster that way."  
  
000000000  
  
After returning from Godric's Hollow, Harry began searching immediately for Severus, to let him know he was back. He found Severus standing in his pond, fishing, and wearing nothing but his hat and a pair of tight jeans over which he wore thigh-high wading boots.  
  
Harry delayed announcing his presence so that he could a take a few moments to appreciate the fine lines of Severus' back. It was then that he noticed the tattoo. It was a bit old and faded but still quite visible; a smattering of stars on Severus' right shoulder. The largest was encased in a red heart.  
  
Years of star gazing had taught Harry a little about the constellations and he quickly realized the stars were in the pattern of the Canis Major. And the star within the heart was Sirius, the Dog Star. Harry grinned at the incredible sappiness of the tattoo.  
  
"Get what you need?" asked Severus, looking over his shoulder and down at the collection of photos nestled in Harry's arms.  
  
Harry nodded and said, "I guess it's going to be a cold day in hell. Since there'll be a picture of James Potter in your house now."  
  
"I'll live," said Severus, sounding as though it would be a close call.  
  
Harry wondered why Severus hadn't liked his father yet had held some obvious affection for his mother. He didn't ask. He probably didn't want to know and Severus probably wouldn't tell him.  
  
A distant galloping called Harry's attention to the far horizon where a figure in a gray riding outfit deftly rode a palomino.  
  
"Who's that?"  
  
"Firenze," answered Severus as he reeled in another fish. "He's an art teacher at the high school. I keep his horse for him." Severus paused and observed Firenze with approval. "That man rides like he was born on a horse."  
  
Firenze rode up to them and leaped off his horse. A youngish face belied the shock of white hair beneath his cap.  
  
After Severus introduced them, Firenze asked, "And will I be seeing you in my class, this year?"  
  
Harry tried to think of his schedule. "No, I have...Trelaney? Trelawnley?"  
  
"Ah, Sybil..." Firenze said with a touch of disgust. "You have my condolences."  
  
"What would Albus say," said Severus, smirking. "Hearing you talk about a fellow teacher that way?"  
  
Severus and Firenze began a rather spiteful conversation in which they badmouthed several of their colleagues that had somehow caught their ire. Ignored and uninterested, Harry excused himself to his temporary bedroom where he tried to arrange the photos of his parents in a manner that would allow him to see them all with one glance. He was finally satisfied after the seventh arrangement, and he settled on his bed with the largest of them all, the family portrait.  
  
Now that he knew how pretty his mother had been, Harry was ashamed to admit that he'd always pictured her looking like Aunt Petunia, but with a warm smile. He gladly replaced the old false images with the much better truth. James was very much as Harry had imagined him. Since he didn't look anything like Petunia, Harry had always assumed that he got his looks from his father's side. He hadn't thought the resemblance would be so strong.  
  
He wondered many things as he stared at his parents. Would they like him, if they were to meet today? Would he like them? How different he would be had he been raised by them? Would they care that he was gay? Sirius had said James and Lily had no problems with his own homosexuality but Harry knew that having a gay friend and having a gay son were two entirely different things.  
  
Harry involved himself in a wonderful daydream-growing up with his real parents-until Severus called up to let him know dinner was ready. He sat the photo on the nightstand so that it would be the last thing he saw before he fell asleep and headed downstairs.  
  
Firenze joined them for their meal, and he and Severus continued talking about workplace politics. The shrill ring of the phone silenced their conversation, and when Severus got up to answer it, Harry couldn't help but pause to examine the man's retreating ass. Realizing he wasn't exactly alone, Harry looked away and hoped Firenze hadn't noticed.  
  
He needn't have worried. Firenze was busy checking it out himself.  
  
A strong pang of irritation shot through Harry. Firenze had no right to look at Sirius' man like that. No right at all! Sure, maybe Harry ogled Severus at every goddamn opportunity but that was different, somehow. It just was.  
  
Wait, Harry thought. Perhaps he was misreading the situation. He had already made a fool of himself by assuming Remus was gay. He didn't want to make the same mistake again.  
  
"So, Mr. Firenze," Harry said casually. "Are we keeping you from your wife tonight?"  
  
Firenze slowly looked away from Severus' ass and smiled. He seemed to know exactly what Harry was really asking and why.  
  
"It's just Firenze. No 'Mr.' And I prefer to live a life of abstinence. I find that romantic dalliances are a distraction from my art."  
  
But he was apparently still free to lust all he wanted, for Firenze unabashedly returned to leering at Severus. Harry scowled at him and stabbed angrily at his fish. He had planned on going to his room as soon as possible so that he could look at his parents again but he soon decided to linger around and keep a watchful eye on Firenze.  
  
000000  
  
The next day Severus dropped Harry off at the Lupin, Shacklebolt and Tonks law firm on his way to work. Remus had called and asked Harry to meet him there. Sirius was due to see a judge that morning and they were hoping he would be released on bail before noon.  
  
Finally, after a long boring morning of rereading the same year old magazines, a very frazzled Remus arrived with Sirius in tow. At first Harry was immensely relieved to see him but his feelings soon turned to horror.  
  
"You look awful!" exclaimed Harry, staring with dismay. A jagged cut began on Sirius' left cheek and ran down his neck into his chest. It was, undoubtedly, going to leave a scar. But the worst was his right eye, which was red and swollen shut.  
  
Sirius grinned. "Ha! This is nothing! You should see Karkaroff."  
  
"You're just so damn proud of yourself, aren't you?" Remus asked disgustedly.  
  
"Listen, no one is going to fuck with Harry and get away with it! Those fucking Dementors got exactly-"  
  
"Not here!" interjected Remus as he forced them into his office, away from the secretary who was clearly straining to hear the conversation.  
  
"So," began Harry in the tense silence. "Do you have to go back to court?"  
  
"Nope," Sirius said, haughtily. "All charges dropped. They knew they didn't have a case!"  
  
"No case?" Remus said, looking up with disbelief. "They only had dozens of eyewitnesses and tons of physical evidence. At the very least you, should have had to pay a huge fine and gotten some time on probation. At the very least. This is very odd."  
  
"It was Senator Malfoy."  
  
All eyes turned to Harry.  
  
"Draco told me his dad was going to help you get out of it."  
  
"Why would Lucius Malfoy help me?" asked Sirius, incredulously.  
  
"Well, whatever the reason, just be glad Lucius was in your corner, for once," said Remus. "Anyway, I need to talk to you about something else. Severus learned that, until this weekend, Harry had never seen a picture of his parents."  
  
Sirius stilled and looked at Harry. "The Dursleys never gave you the pictures of James and Lily?"  
  
"They said they didn't have any."  
  
"That's a lie. That's a goddamn lie! We sent hundreds of pictures with you when you went to the Dursleys. Along with some your parent's personal items we thought you might want. Lily's diaries...their wedding rings...You didn't get any of it?"  
  
"No," Harry said calmly. Inside, he was seething. This whole time, this whole fucking time the Dursleys had lied to him. Had kept his parent's things from him. Why? What had made them hate him and his parents so much that they would do this?  
  
"I should have fucking realized that first day." Sirius turned to Harry. "You had so little. I should have known then. I was just so happy to get you out of there, I couldn't think of anything else."  
  
"Calm down, Sirius," said Remus. "Getting upset isn't going to help anything."  
  
We're going to Surrey," said Sirius. His voice was quiet and soft, but the waves of rage surrounding him were almost tangible. "Today."  
  
"No, we are not." Remus looked pleadingly at Harry, evidently hoping he might talk some sense into Sirius.  
  
Fuck that. Harry wanted to go to Surrey.  
  
"Sirius," began Remus, realizing he was all on his own. "You're bound to do something incredibly stupid if you go to Surrey. And when you get arrested, Lucius Malfoy won't be there to help you out. Harry will get what is rightfully his but you will let me handle it."  
  
"And what are you going to do?" Sirius snidely asked, obviously not believing Remus could do much of anything.  
  
"I don't know yet," admitted Remus. "But I'll tell you this, if the Dursleys won't cooperate, then we'll go to Surrey, and I'll help you hide the damn bodies."  
  
Sirius did not look appeased in the least but no longer insisted on going to Surrey.  
  
Harry was of two minds. He wanted to go to the Dursleys and scream at them until his throat was raw and aching, but he knew Remus was right. If they went to Surrey, Sirius would probably get himself in trouble again. Harry wouldn't allow that to happen. He'd just have to wait and be patient.  
  
"They had just better still have his things. If they don't..." Sirius cracked his knuckles.  
  
"What about all the stuff up in Godric's Hollow?" Harry asked. "Does that belong to me?"  
  
Sirius' eyebrows furrowed. "When did you go to Godric's Hollow?"  
  
"Yesterday. Severus only had a picture of my mom and I wanted to see one of my dad. So he asked Draco to take me there to find one. Draco said I probably own the house. Do I?"  
  
Sirius and Remus shared a look and Harry had the feeling that more bad news was coming.  
  
"You don't. Not anymore."  
  
Not anymore? That implied he had owned it at one time. "What do you mean?"  
  
Sirius stared into space and did not answer for several seconds. "The Dursleys sold it shortly after getting custody of you. They sold it to a man named Shane Potter. He's your great uncle or something like that. I'm sorry, Harry. It's all my fault."  
  
"How is it your fault?"  
  
"Because I gave you to the Dursleys," Sirius said gravely. "After James and Lily were killed I was given custody of you but there were many-" Sirius shot a sharp look in Remus' direction. "-who felt that I was an unfit parent and convinced me that you would be better off with your aunt." He let out a cold barking laugh. "It seemed so ideal. You'd have two parents again. A brother to grow up with. And they wanted you."  
  
"They wanted me?" Harry couldn't believe it. For as long as he could remember, the Dursleys had acted like he was a huge burden to them.  
  
Sirius snickered. "Well, they didn't want you. I know that now, sixteen years too late. They wanted all the money that came with you."  
  
"Money? I was told my parents left me penniless."  
  
"No, Harry, no," Sirius said with a dark smile. "You were well, well provided for. James and Lily weren't wealthy but they were comfortable. It's all gone now. I don't know what the hell the Dursleys spent it on but there's nothing left."  
  
Harry was completely floored. "Is that even legal?"  
  
"It wouldn't be now," said Remus. "But the laws were different back then. There wasn't much protection for young custodial children in your type of situation. Everything was further complicated because your parents hadn't left a will, only instructions that you were to go to Sirius should anything happen to them."  
  
"Don't worry, Harry," said Sirius. "I'm going to replace it all. Every last dime."  
  
"You don't have-"  
  
"Yes, I do, Harry," said Sirius, shaking his head miserably. "It's because of me that you lost everything. I should have never let you go, no matter what everyone said. You would have grown up with someone who loved you and I wouldn't have gotten into that mess with Peter."  
  
"I don't care about the money!" protested Harry. Well, he was not being entirely truthful. As enraging as it was to know the Dursleys had taken his money, it was the least of his concerns. It was the sale of his parent's house that truly angered him. He didn't quite know what it was, but he felt something in that house. Something that made Harry feel wonderful. Something that felt like a mother's embrace, not that Harry had ever felt such a thing. "I just wish they hadn't sold Godric's Hollow."  
  
"We've been trying to get it for you," said Sirius. "I didn't know if you'd even want it considering what happened there, but I thought you should at least have the option. I wasn't going to bring it up with you until we knew something for sure; didn't want to get you excited over something that might not have panned out. Unfortunately, Shane refuses to sell at any price."  
  
"I really don't know why he is holding out," Remus said. "It's obviously not over money. Sirius has offered more than double the appraisal price. And, as far as I know, he's not set foot in the house since he bought it. All may not be totally lost, though; Kingsley is well versed in Real Estate law and I have him looking over a few things. He thinks you might be able to get your house back."  
  
"How?" asked Harry.  
  
"I better have him talk to you about it."  
  
Remus left his office and shortly returned with Shacklebolt who carried a folder stuffed with papers.  
  
Hello," said Shacklebolt as he pulled out a few papers and laid them on Remus' desk. "I've been very busy and I haven't had a lot of time to work on your case, just yet, but let me tell you what I've got so far and you can decide if you want to go further with it."  
  
At Harry's nod, Shacklebolt continued, "Now I must warn you, it's going to be a long shot. What's working against us is the fact that we're disputing the sale of the house after such a considerable amount of time has lapsed, but we do have a little law on our side." He picked up a sheet of paper with what seemed to be a timeline on it. "Given the laws at that time, it would not have been illegal for the Dursleys to sell Godric's Hollow as long as the proceeds were put into a trust for you, which did not happen. You could press charges against the Dursleys and sue them for the money they received from the sale of the house. However, in doing so you would forfeit any rights you have to Godric's Hollow."  
  
"I want the house!" Harry said fiercely.  
  
Shacklebolt handed the timeline over to Harry. "What works for us is the timing of the sale. You see, your parents died on October 31, 1981 and Sirius was granted custody of you as per your parents' request. Less than a week later, he handed physical custody of you over to the Dursleys though he still retained legal custody as the paperwork had yet to be handled and processed. However, just a few days later Sirius was arrested and ultimately was sent to Azkaban. This delayed the guardianship proceedings. The Dursleys were awarded temporary custody of you, which was later made permanent in March of 1982. As your legal guardians, the Dursleys had the right to sell Godric's Hollow in your name, but they acted too soon. The house was sold in January of '82. At that time the Dursleys still only had temporary custody of you and that greatly reduced their legal rights. It is my belief that we can convince the courts, should we need to involve them, that the Dursleys were not legally entitled to sell Godric's Hollow when they did and that it's ownership should revert back to you."  
  
"What about the money they already got for the house?" asked Harry. "Would I have to pay that back?"  
  
"No. That would be an issue between the Dursleys and Shane Potter," said Shacklebolt. "It doesn't concern us."  
  
"So what do we do first?"  
  
"It is my recommendation that we set up a meeting with the Dursleys and Potter. Getting the state involved can be a messy and expensive process for all parties and it's always best to try to rectify things out of court."  
  
"All right," said Harry. A new thought occurred to him. "How much is this going to cost?"  
  
"Cost?"  
  
"Yeah, your fees."  
  
"Harry, you don't have to worry-"  
  
"You can't do all this for free."  
  
"I'll pay the fees," said Sirius.  
  
"No," said Harry. He had to do this himself. He couldn't let Sirius keep doing things for him out some warped sense of guilt. "I want to do it. So, how much?"  
  
"Well, my fees generally run at $175 an hour but for you-"  
  
"I'll pay it. I'll get a job or something."  
  
Shacklebolt sighed and looked over at Remus. "How about this, Harry. After Tonks left, Remus and I took over most of her clients. We're both overworked and could use a little more help around this place. Why don't you work at the firm and we'll take the fees out of your pay. Do you know how to file?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Good, because you'll be doing a lot of it."  
  
And so it was settled. Sirius wasn't very happy about it but Harry convinced it him that it was important that he do it himself. Harry filled out the necessary forms for his employment and was given a quick rundown of his duties before they left. He was due to report to work at eight the next morning.  
  
"Let's grab some lunch," said Sirius, as they got on his motorcycle. "Then we'll go home and see if I have any pictures of your parents. Most of my possessions were lost after I was sent to Azkaban but there might be something left. Remus is going to bring by what he has, later."  
  
They went to the Leaky Cauldron where Sirius ate like a starved man. A few days of jailhouse food had left him with a voracious appetite. After an hour of stuffing themselves silly they proceeded to Grimmauld Place.  
  
There, they went up into the very large attic, which was filled with old furniture and other junk. In a dusty, cobwebbed corner they found a few old boxes with "Sirius" written across them in black marker.  
  
"This is all that remains of my pre-Azkaban life," Sirius said. "I haven't been able to look through it all just yet."  
  
He went to the nearest box and opened it. There was not much of anything in the first two boxes but in the third and final box they found an old discolored photo of four young men wearing black caps and gowns and bright, wide smiles.  
  
Sirius gave a sad sort of grin. "The Marauders. The day we graduated from Hogsmeade University. Your mother took this picture. Everything seemed so great then. We were young and had our whole lives ahead of us. We thought we were going to rule the world. But Remus was the only one who ended up with any decent kind of life."  
  
"You have a decent life now, don't you?"  
  
He shrugged. "I spent a large portion of my life in prison. As horrible as Azkaban was, I miss it sometimes. I knew that life and my role in it. The outside world, well, it's totally different from what I remembered in my youth. I spent my first few weeks in complete confusion. The world has passed me by and sometimes I don't think I have a place in it anymore."  
  
"Of course, you do! With Remus and Severus. And me!"  
  
Sirius smiled and reached out to tousle Harry's hair. "Yeah, you're right," he said, though he didn't sound too convinced. He delved deeper into the box and his despondent mood evaporated as he pulled out an old ratty t-shirt. He let out a whoop of joy and waved the shirt in Harry's face.  
  
"My old Rolling Stones shirt!" said Sirius. "I got this at a concert in Memphis. All of us hitchhiked there when we were fourteen. We got into so much trouble. Our parents even called the police on us. It was worth it though."  
  
Sirius sniffed the shirt then removed the one he was wearing. After a bit of a struggle Sirius had the tiny t-shirt stretched across his muscular chest.  
  
Harry averted his gaze with a blush. He looked down at the photo instead. His eyes rested on his father then flitted over to the young Sirius. "You were really skinny back then. How'd you get so, umm, muscle-y?"  
  
"Prison will do that to a man."  
  
"It will?"  
  
Sirius chuckled. "There's not much to do there except lift weights and find Jesus."  
  
"Did you? Find Jesus?"  
  
"Oh, Harry, I stopped looking decades ago. A-ha!" But what Sirius did find was a thick purple and white book. "This was our high school year book from our senior year."  
  
Sirius flipped through it, pointing out pictures of the Marauders and their other friends. James Potter seemed to be the most photographed student, which Harry quickly commented on.  
  
"James was practically the king of the school," Sirius explained. "He was class president, Prom King, the star quarterback. The girls wanted to date him and the boys wanted to be him. Everyone knew he was meant for great things. He could have gone to any college he wanted. Football recruiters came from all the top schools to try to hook him. He shocked everyone when he decided to attend Hog U."  
  
"Why'd he do that?"  
  
"Your grandmother fell ill that year. She died a year later. James wanted to stay close to her in the time she had left. Your grandpa passed not to long after that. He wasn't old or sick but his heart gave out one day. We figured he just couldn't go on without her. I don't think James ever regretted his decision. But he thought since he wouldn't be one of the football greats then you would be. He used to read football books to you instead of fairy tales. He wanted you to be the next OJ Simpson."  
  
"I don't think that's going to happen," said Harry. "And considering what happened to OJ, that's probably a good thing."  
  
Sirius laughed. "Too true."  
  
A loud pounding from downstairs interrupted their trip down memory lane. Harry and Sirius quickly packed everything up then went to answer the door. Their visitors were the bruised and battered but very happy Thestrals. An impromptu celebration commenced as everyone congratulated themselves on having gotten off scott-free.  
  
The festivities kicked up another notch when Mr. and Mrs. Weasley arrived, along with the twins, Ron, and Ginny. Mrs. Weasley bore a large batch of baked goods for Sirius and clucked over his injuries like a concerned mother hen.  
  
Harry was shocked by the elder Weasleys, Mrs. Weasley especially. Normally, she seemed quite disapproving of the Thestrals, but today, they were her new best friends. She even hugged Tenebrus. Both were oddly supportive of the beating the Dementors had received. Though Mr. Weasley vehemently expressed his anger that he was not called to tag along.  
  
"Dad!" exclaimed Ginny, dazed at seeing this new side of her gentle father.  
  
"You don't understand," said Mr. Weasley. He looked over at Tenebrus and Crystal who had grown quiet. Some unspoken communication seemed to pass amongst them. Mrs. Weasley came up beside her husband and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Karkaroff is a very bad man. He's done things. Horrible, evil things. He should be rotting in prison right now but he's not because there was never any proof of what he'd done; but I know-the world might have forgotten-but I know."  
  
"That's right, Gingersnaps," Tenebrus said in a low growl. "We'll never forget."  
  
It was a rather intense moment and Harry found it a little disturbing. He walked away from them and went to the kitchen where he knew Ron and the twins had gone to get some drinks. He found them huddled together around the table and whispering, conspiringly. They jumped apart as Harry entered.  
  
"Your parents are acting really weird," said Harry. He looked at the Weasley brothers who had splotches of white paint covering their clothes and skin. All three of them were a bit pale and seemed shaken up. "So are you guys, for that matter."  
  
"It's been a bad morning," said Ron. "But everything's cool now."  
  
"What have you been doing? Painting?"  
  
"Yeah," said Fred with a weak smile. "Just helping a friend with a little...home improvement project. We didn't have time to clean up before coming over."  
  
"We heard you stayed with Mr. Snape," said Ron. "That must have been awful. You should have come to our house."  
  
"It wasn't so bad." Harry smiled and blushed. "Plus, I got to spend a lot time with Draco."  
  
"Aww, look at that grin," said Fred, grinning himself. "Harry must have gotten some."  
  
"I do believe you're right, my brother," said George. "Well? Details, man, details!"  
  
"There's nothing to tell!" protested Harry. "Besides, I thought you guys were straight. Why would you want to know about my little gay activities?"  
  
"Sex is sex, Harry," said George. "We like hearing about any kind."  
  
"We sure, fucking, do," agreed Fred, nodding.  
  
"I did not have sex with Draco! We just kissed and stuff."  
  
"It's the 'and stuff' part we want to hear about."  
  
"Not me!" said Ron.  
  
"Pay no attention to him, Harry," said George, waving a dismissive hand in Ron's direction. "He's just a jealous little boy who isn't getting any, except from himself."  
  
Ron looked as though he wanted to deny George's assertion, but he slumped over the table, instead, and said, in a sulky voice, said, "It's not fair. I'm supposed to be making out with hot cheerleaders down by Odgen's Road."  
  
"Why is that?" asked Harry.  
  
"Well," said Ron as he raised his head and rested it on his fist. "Guys like me always get girls in the movies. I'm the captain of the football team. Popular. Not bad looking, if I do say so myself. And let's face it; I've got a pretty nice ass."  
  
Harry and the twins snickered at that last bit.  
  
"I do!" Ron stood up and wiggled said ass in Harry's face. "Touch it. See for yourself!"  
  
"I'm not touching your ass, Ron."  
  
"Feel it!"  
  
Harry mock sighed and gave it an obligatory poke. He stopped short, then lifted both hands to squeeze and caress the cheeks. "Oh, wow! That is a good ass."  
  
"Damn right it is," said Ron. "It's a fucking great ass!"  
  
A cough came from the kitchen doorway. Mr. Weasley stood there with an amused look on his face. "Well, son, we're ready to take you and your great ass home. If Harry's willing to let go of it, that is."  
  
Ron moved away from Harry's exploring hands with a flush.  
  
"I'm not going to ask," said Mr. Weasley as he retreated.  
  
Severus and Snuffles arrived shortly after the Weasleys' departure, with Harry's things, which had been left at Severus' house. Harry took them to his room and when he returned Severus was letting everyone know exactly what he thought of them. Basically, they were all a bunch of violent, irresponsible miscreants who should have gotten much more than a mere slap on the wrist.  
  
Harry thought Severus was being overly harsh. Although he agreed that Sirius and the Thestrals had acted in the extreme, they had defended him and that wasn't something Harry could easily forget. Severus' presence put quite the damper on things and the Thestrals soon sought friendlier pastures.  
  
0000000  
  
Draco floated in his pool, letting the cool water flow over him and ease his tired body into relaxation. This was exactly what he needed after the terrible morning spent at Godric's Hollow. It had been horrible. As grating as it was to spend half the day with the Weasley brothers, he was grateful for their presence. It had sped up things greatly. And they had seemed just as bothered by the place as Draco, so he knew he wasn't completely nuts. Fortunately, that was over and done with and Harry need never know about it. When they had left, the room had looked as pristine as the rest of the house.  
  
Hearing his father's voice drift from inside, Draco got out of the pool and followed it to Lucius' office. He had been waiting for Lucius to come home so he could inquire about Sirius Black. Lucius was not alone in his office. Bellatrix Lestrange, his aunt, was there; going over the latest financial reports of Malfoy Industries, one of the largest privately owned manufacturing companies in the Midwest; a pioneer in all things plastic.  
  
Lucius set the financial reports on the corner of his desk where they would most likely be buried and forgotten. For a man who had always insisted on complete control on all aspects of his life, Lucius showed an astonishing lack of interest in the company that bore his name and had gained his family so much wealth.  
  
Bellatrix, along with her husband Rodolphus, ran the company for Lucius. She was a striking woman with jet-black hair streaked with bold stripes of white. Her appearance and cutthroat antics, in and out of the boardroom, had earned her the nickname, Cruella DeVil. However nasty she was be at times, she had always had a soft spot for her young nephew, and she smiled warmly at him when he entered.  
  
Lucius, on the other hand, scowled and said, "Jesus, Draco! You're dripping all over the floor. Attire yourself, properly."  
  
"I will, in a minute," said Draco. "I wanted to ask you about Sirius."  
"Yes, I've taken care of it. It cost me a pretty penny, I might add." Lucius frowned. "And not only that, but now your mother and I are stuck playing bridge with Judge Doholov and his wife next Sunday. Have I ever told you how much I hate bridge?"  
  
"It won't be so bad, Father."  
  
"Well, I'm very glad you feel that way, Draco, because you'll be joining us."  
  
Draco groaned and flopped in a leather chair.  
  
"I've got something that might cheer you up," said Bellatrix. She opened her briefcase and pulled out a copy of the Wall Street Journal. He and Bellatrix had been playing the stock market, together, since Draco had been a child. At first, only as pretend but when Draco had turned fourteen, Lucius had let him make his first real investment. In the ensuing years and under Bellatrix's firm tutelage, Draco had a portfolio that would be the envy of any investor.  
  
She opened the paper and pointed out a company called Polycell Technologies. "It's a small software company in Arizona," she said. "Not worth much yet but in a few weeks they're going to be bought out by Microsoft. Naturally, it's all hush-hush right now. Invest today, make a fortune tomorrow."  
  
"And wherever did you get this...fascinating...tidbit?" asked Lucius, lifting a skeptical eyebrow.  
  
Bellatrix' smirk had the smug relish of the cat that had swallowed the canary. "A little birdie."  
  
"You know how I feel about you involving your little birdies with my son," Lucius said sternly. "I had a hell of a time getting Draco out of that insider trading mess you got him into last year."  
  
Draco and Bellatrix beamed, both fondly remembering the event.  
  
"Just don't be greedy about it, Draco," said Lucius, seeing a great gleam develop in Draco's eyes. "You don't want to call attention to yourself."  
  
"Of course, Father."  
  
As Draco was leaving, Lucius said, "Narcissa and I are going out tonight and won't be home until late. Dobby will tell me if you're out after your curfew."  
  
That's what you think, thought Draco, happily, as he went to his room. After a quick call to his stockbroker, Draco showered and got dressed. He was going to give Harry a call, but he decided to go out to Grimmauld Place and see him in person. And it had been a while since he had seen Kreacher and he was due for a visit. Draco stopped by the kitchen to let Dobby know he'd be out and see if he had any messages for Kreacher.  
  
Dobby insisted that Draco wait for him to whip up some chicken soup.  
  
"He hasn't been doing well," said Dobby as he poured the soup into a plastic container. "Make sure he eats all of it, and tell him I'll be by later this week."  
  
Draco went to Grimmauld Place first. Tonks answered the door. Today she was wearing a red, curly wig.  
  
"Fuck, Nymphadora," was Draco's reply to her cheery hello. "You look like Little Orphan Annie; worse yet-a Weasley."  
  
"Behave, Draco," chided Tonks. "The Weasleys are good people."  
  
She led him to the study where Harry was sitting on the floor with piles of pictures surrounding him. He smiled and motioned for Draco to join him. Remus and Sirius were standing around an old movie projector and appeared to be arguing over how to operate it. Severus lurked nearby, watching them with a disdainful eye.  
  
Draco lowered himself to sit next to Harry. "Are you guys trying to watch a movie?"  
  
"Yeah, if they can figure out that thing," said Harry. "Remus got in touch with the man who filmed my parents' wedding and he had some old copies. Wanna stay for dinner? Sirius is going to order some food soon."  
  
"Actually, I was hoping you'd want to go out. My curfew's been temporarily extended."  
  
Harry looked sad. "I can't." He waved at Sirius and Remus who were cursing as yards and yards of film shot out of the machine. "I think this is going to take some time and I have to go bed early. I start my new job tomorrow."  
  
"A job?"  
  
"Turns out that I don't actually own Godric's Hollow," said Harry as he began an explanation of the situation surrounding the house and how he might get it back.  
  
"That's really fucked up."  
  
"I know. Hopefully, everything works out."  
  
"Well, I need to take some soup down to Kreacher for Dobby. Come with me?"  
  
Kreacher lived several hundred yards behind Grimmauld Place in an old wooden structure that was more of a shack than a house. Draco knocked on the door a few times before walking right in. Harry cautiously followed him inside. The place appeared to be just one room that contained a tiny kitchenette and on the other side, a brass bed covered in a colorful patchwork quilt. In the middle of it all was a large iron safe.  
  
The old caretaker sat by the safe, asleep in a rickety rocking chair. He wore nothing but a pair of filthy overalls and his pallid skin was covered in grime. Draco directed Harry to take a seat on the bed and then gently nudged Kreacher on the shoulder.  
  
Kreacher awoke with a grunt and smiled at seeing Draco, though it shifted into a scowl when his gaze turned to Harry.  
  
"Dobby sends his best," said Draco. He sat the soup on an old TV tray, retrieved a spoon from the kitchenette and pulled it all up to Kreacher. "He made this for you. 'You're to eat all of it,' he says."  
  
Kreacher made his thoughts on the matter clear by turning his head away from the soup and clamping his mouth shut.  
  
"Come on, Kreacher," prodded Draco. "If you don't, I'll feed it to you myself. You know I will."  
  
Mumbling something about annoying brats, Kreacher grudgingly began to eat. Usually, Draco and Kreacher could talk for hours. Kreacher knew a fair amount about all kinds of spooky things that went bump in the night and Draco ate up his tales with relish. Tonight, Kreacher was reluctant to speak. Draco guessed it was because Harry was there. Kreacher seemed to dislike him immensely, and he glared menacingly at the boy, showing off his jagged, yellowed teeth, whenever he thought Draco wasn't looking.  
  
Harry was becoming increasingly uncomfortable and clearly wanted to leave. Fortunately, Kreacher, being the very old man he was, soon drifted into sleep after his meal.  
  
"Will you help me, Harry?" asked Draco as he tried to lift Kreacher out of the chair. With Harry's help, they quickly had him safely ensconced in the bed. Draco laid a thin blanket over him and then turned to leave. He felt sharp nails dig into his wrist and pull him back. Dark watery eyes peered up at him.  
  
"You're making a mistake," Kreacher rasped. "He's just going to hurt you."  
  
"Who?"  
  
Kreacher's eyes trailed over to Harry and stayed there.  
  
"Harry's not going to hurt me," Draco said, uneasily.  
  
"He will," asserted Kreacher as he turned his back and curled in to himself. "And there's nothing you can do about it. Not a damn thing. It's already happened."  
  
Draco stared down at the bed, trying to decipher Kreacher's cryptic warning. It was the ranting of a deranged old man, Draco decided. Such things were common with Kreacher these days.  
  
"What was that all about?" Harry asked as they headed for Grimmauld Place. "Why does he think I would hurt you?"  
  
"Don't worry about it, Harry," said Draco. "Kreacher isn't all there. He's always saying things that don't make any sense."  
  
"Hmm, I s'pose," said Harry, though he still looked unsettled. "You seem awfully friendly with him."  
  
Draco shrugged. "Dobby used to, sort of, act as my nanny. I would beg him to take me along when he visited Kreacher. I've always loved Grimmauld Place, especially after Kreacher showed me the secret room."  
  
Harry stopped in his tracks. "There's a secret room?"  
  
"Of course," said Draco, laughing. "All big scary old mansions have them. It's not much really but when I was ten I thought it was the coolest thing, ever. Want to see it?"  
  
"Later?" asked Harry, with a glance at his watch. "Sirius is probably wondering where we are."  
  
Back at Grimmauld Place they had finally gotten the projector running, though there was no sound. Harry and Draco settled on the floor and Tonks passed them two Styrofoam cartons of food.  
  
"We went ahead and ordered you guys the chicken," said Tonks, "since you two ran off for a little smoochy-smoochy and weren't around to ask."  
  
"We went to see Kreacher!" exclaimed Harry. Draco could see him blushing in the darkened room.  
  
"Nice try, Harry," said Sirius with a snort. "Think of a more believable lie next time. No one in their right mind would visit Kreacher."  
  
Harry was about to protest further when the film began. He shut his mouth and watched in earnest.  
  
As far as wedding films went, this was like any other. Fairly boring and routine, though a good laugh was had by all as a young Remus walked a bridesmaid down the aisle, his tawny hair permed into a tremendous white man's afro. The wedding progressed into the reception, which was only slightly more interesting.  
  
Draco and Tonks entertained everyone with their scathing commentary on the guests' choice of party attire. Severus Snape bore the brunt of their insults. He appeared as a young man on screen from time to time, stalking in the background and wearing a hideous black Western shirt with green piping along the edges and weird swirly patterns across the shoulders.  
  
"It was the seventies!" grumbled Severus, as though that might excuse him.  
  
After the film, Remus gathered the reels and handed them to Harry. "Mr. Creevey says you can keep these but I need to return the equipment next week."  
  
Harry hugged the reels to his chest and nodded.  
  
"We're going to head off," said Remus as he escorted Tonks to the door. "I'll come by in the morning and pick you up for work, Harry."  
  
"Work?" asked Severus, perking. "Did you get a job?"  
  
"Yeah," said Harry. "At the law firm."  
"How about that?" Severus paused, then smiled maliciously at Sirius. "You know, it's pretty fucked when a seventeen year old boy goes off to make an honest wage while his forty year old guardian stays at home and wastes his life away."  
  
"Is that right?" Sirius asked with an nasty smile of his own. His face twisted into something smug and ugly. "Well, Severus, sweetheart, while we're on the subject of seventeen year old boys and forty year old men, why don't we talk about the seventeen year old boy who openly declares who he wants to be with then let's talk about the forty year old man who won't even be seen in public with the person he has supposedly loved for the last twenty years? Yes, let's talk about that!"  
  
Severus was completely unfazed. "You knew what the deal was when we started this thing," he said in bored tones.  
  
"Yeah! I know what the fucking deal is. I'm just some fucking convenient place for you to stick your fucking dick!"  
  
"And this is where we leave," whispered Harry. He pulled Draco out of the study and shut the door. "You really don't want to be around for this. They'll be at it for a while. Show me the secret room, now?"  
  
"Right," said Draco, distractedly, with a curious glance at the closed study door. "We'll need flashlights."  
  
They found a pair in the junk drawer in the kitchen. Draco then led Harry down a small hall just off the kitchen that led to the back door and basement.  
  
"Um, maybe we shouldn't," said Harry, as Draco tried to jimmy the locked door open with a butter knife. "Sirius said the basement's a little dangerous."  
  
"It'll be okay," Draco insisted. "I've been down there tons of times."  
  
The lock eventually gave, and Harry reluctantly followed Draco down the steps.  
  
"Walk softly," instructed Draco as he felt the wooden planks sag deeply underneath his weight. "The stairs are a little weak."  
  
Several precarious steps later, Draco and Harry were safely standing on the firm basement floor. The basement was uncomfortably hot and had a deep, pungent odor. Through the hazy beams of the flashlights all they could see was an old rusty furnace and the dirty brick walls of the basement.  
  
Draco aimed his flashlight at one wall and walked over to a section that had a long crack bisecting it, near the fuse box. He ran his hand along the bricks that were near the crack, and his face soon lit up. He selected a block and pressed it; it moved into wall and Draco stretched his hand into the small depression. He let out a grunt of effort, and a wide section of the wall sprang open.  
  
"See!" said Draco as he waved a hand in front of the new entrance.  
  
"Wow! So what's in here?" asked Harry, poking his head in the secret room.  
  
"You're going to be disappointed. It's nothing but a bunch of junk," said Draco as he stepped into the room; Harry shuffled in behind him. He waved his hand around, grasping for several moments, until it grazed a dangling metal chain. He yanked, firmly, and the room was bathed in weak, yellow light from a dirty, overhead bulb.  
  
"I always thought it was a shame to use such a cool room for something as stupid as storage," said Draco. "Me? I'd put a dungeon down here or something like that."  
  
"I wonder why someone made this room. It had to have served some kind of purpose."  
  
The room was long and narrow with several little nooks and crannies. It was constructed from the same dirty brick of the basement and had a packed dirt floor. The room had a few boxes and whatnot, but it contained mostly very old beds, one of which was a small crib with a stained mattress. Next to the crib was a box stuffed with toys and aged drawings that had obviously been created by a small child.  
  
"Well, it's just a guess," said Draco, "but I know my many times great-grandfather Horace Black was repeatedly arrested for helping escaped slaves in the 1850s. It's one of the great family scandals. I always assumed the room was built to hide them."  
  
"That's kinda cool," said Harry. He looked up and frowned, hearing Sirius and Severus' angry, muffled voices float down through the ceiling. "We must be under the study. I swear, they're constantly on the verge of breaking up. It's only a matter of time."  
  
"It won't happen," said Draco, confidently. "Did you know he waited for Sirius? Severus and my father are really good friends. For as long as I can remember Father was always trying to set him up with someone and Severus always refused. I used to spy on them and I'd hear Father tell Severus that he was being foolish and stupid, wanting someone who was never coming back. I didn't know it was Sirius that Severus wanted until he got out of prison. Kind of romantic, huh?"  
  
"Yeah, I guess, but sad too. Sirius had a life sentence. If Peter Pettigrew had never been found, Sirius would have died in Azkaban. Was Severus going to wait forever?"  
  
"I dunno. Maybe."  
  
Harry shook his head. "I don't get it. If I waited so long for someone and they finally came back to me, I'd shout it from the rooftops."  
  
"Severus is pretty hard to figure out most of the time," said Draco, shrugging.  
  
They explored deeper and after not finding much of interest, Harry took to looking through the pile of drawings.  
  
"Sirius made these. He was quite the strange little artist," said Harry, passing them over.  
  
The first picture portrayed a man who was dressed entirely in black. Draco thought he looked like a vampire. The man would have seemed quite sinister had it not been for the halo, angel wings, and wide smile on the man's face. He held a small black haired boy who looked up lovingly at him. In a corner, Sirius had signed his name in a crude childish scrawl.  
  
Draco was about to look at the next one when a ringing, vibration sprung from his pocket. He pulled out a cell phone and answered it.  
  
"Your parents just called," Dobby said with a frantic voice. "Their evening was cut short. They'll be home in twenty minutes."  
  
He looked at his watch; it was almost10 o'clock. "Fuck! I'll be there!"  
  
Draco shoved the phone in his pocket and looked at Harry in a panic. "I've got to go!"  
  
"Is everything okay?" asked Harry as they quickly shut up the secret room and ran up the stairs.  
  
"Everything's fine, I just need to make it home before my parents find out I'm not there."  
  
"But I thought your curfew was extended?"  
  
"Well, they didn't exactly know that it had been," Draco said with a wry smile.  
  
Draco sped through Hogsmeade and made it home in less than fifteen minutes. All his rushing was for naught because when he pulled into the Malfoy Estates' large garage Lucius was already there, waiting patiently with a shamed-faced Dobby by his side.  
  
"Five o'clock," Lucius said simply.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Five o'clock. That's your new curfew."  
  
"Now that's taking things too far!"  
  
"I disagree. You're apparently not learning your lesson. Consider yourself lucky. I was tempted to take away your driving privileges, as well, when I found out you had lied to Dobby and told him you had fallen ill and were going to bed."  
  
Draco's jaw dropped, and he stared at the butler, who refused to meet his eyes.  
  
"You will not like the consequences, if you continue to willfully disobey me, Draco," Lucius said. He pierced his son with a sharp look, before he turned on his heel and exited the garage.  
  
"Dobby!" shrieked Draco. "I can't believe-"  
  
"Sorry, young master," said Dobby, a blush gracing his pale cheeks, "but I didn't see the point in both of us getting in trouble."  
  
0000000  
  
Working at the Lupin, Shacklebolt and Tonks Law Firm was not a particularly thrilling experience. All those lawyer TV shows had lied to him. There was no high stakes drama in the courtrooms. No explosive confrontations between contentious clients. No sultry inter-office romance between svelte and sexy twenty-somethings. Just paperwork. Lots of paperwork and an old secretary named Mrs. Grasser who didn't seem to do much of anything but bore Harry with stories of her precocious 2-year-old grandson.  
  
But as far as jobs went, it wasn't too bad. His work was easy, if a little boring. The staff was nice as long as he kept out of their way and he made a new friend in Cedric Diggory, a young pre-law student who worked in a similar office grunt function.  
  
His days began with something of a routine. In the mornings Remus would pick up him up for work. The times when Severus stayed over he was always sure to make some caustic comment over the breakfast table about Sirius' lack of employment to which Sirius would make a biting remark of his own.  
  
After a day at the firm Harry would either ride with Sirius and the Thestrals, pal around with Ron in Hogsmeade Village, or spend hours talking to Draco on the phone. Draco's new, very limiting, curfew did not leave much room for them to see each other though Draco usually met Harry for lunch during the day.  
  
Saturday was Harry's first day of football practice. Knowing that his father had played and had wanted the same for Harry caused him to be much more interested in the game. His newfound enthusiasm did not go unnoticed and several of the established players started to look at him as a possible asset, rather than a hindrance, to the team.  
  
Many parents and fans came by to watch the practice, and just as things were wrapping up a local news crew came by to interview the players. To Ron's obvious annoyance, they were mostly interested in talking to Blaise about how she felt about being the second female player to grace the team. The first being Coach Hooch herself in the early seventies. Harry thought it more than a little odd that Hooch objected so strongly to Blaise when she had gone through the same ordeal. Sometimes he really couldn't understand people.  
  
The locker room was a loud, boisterous affair with enough foul language to make a hardened sailor blush. The conversation mostly centered around "pussy" and just how much everyone was getting. Having absolutely nothing to contribute to such a discussion, Harry left his bragging teammates and headed for the showers. Near the end of Harry's shower a boy Harry remembered as Ernie McMillan started to come in but abruptly turned right back out. He didn't think anything of it until he left the showers and returned to the locker room. Ron and Ernie were shouting as the other players eagerly watched. Several of them nudged each other, noticing Harry was present.  
  
"I don't fucking care!" yelled Ron. "If you have such a fucking problem with it, you can shower with Blaise in the girls' locker room."  
  
"I'm not the only one who feels this way," said Ernie as he stomped off.  
  
"What's going on?" Harry asked loudly, though he already had a pretty good idea. He should have known. Why had he been stupid enough to think it wouldn't matter?  
  
Ron started at seeing Harry. "Nothing. Ernie's just being a jerk."  
  
"Look, Ron, I can just-"  
  
"No! Don't even say it. He's just going to have to fucking deal." Ron looked around at everyone trying to pretend they weren't listening. "And that goes for everyone else, as well."  
  
Harry sighed, feeling the euphoria of the day fade away.  
  
"Don't let it get to you," said Justin, coming up beside Harry and punching him in the shoulder. "Ernie will get over himself. Like anyone wants to look at his pimply ass."  
  
Well, at least not everyone was bothered by his sexuality. It was a start.  
  
Once they were dressed, Harry and Ron went to Ron's house so they could watch his interview on the evening news. Harry loved the Weasley home, brimming with life and activity. Everything was so cozy and homey; a far cry from the cold, sterile environment of the Dursleys or the doom and gloom of Grimmauld Place. This was how a home was supposed to be.  
  
While waiting for the sports section to begin, Harry went to use the bathroom. On his return, he passed through the dining room where Ginny sat at a computer in the corner, excitedly typing away with her friend Luna Lovegood. He nearly stumbled when he heard Ginny say, "Danny's blue...no...azure...no...cerulean orbs rested on Kenickie's engorged manhood. How's that?"  
  
"No, no," said Luna. "How about...Danny's cerulean orbs-feasted-on Kenickie's engorged manhood?"  
  
Ginny squealed as her fingers quickly moved across the keyboard. "Oh! Feasted! That is so good! You're a genius, Luna!"  
  
"What are you guys writing?" Harry asked with wide eyes. He was soon sorry he asked.  
  
Ginny and Luna looked at each other. A sly grin crept up on Ginny's face.  
  
"Shall we?" she asked.  
  
Luna nodded and Harry promptly found himself being forced into Ginny's chair.  
  
"Read this," said Ginny, hanging over Harry's shoulder. "We want your expert opinion."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Just read it!"  
  
Harry's eyebrows rose higher and higher as he read a very graphic story about two boys named Danny and Kenickie doing incredibly foul things to each other in a '57 Chevy. By the end he was blushing as red as a fire engine.  
  
"Hey! Wait a minute. Danny and Kenickie, aren't they the guys from Grease? This never happened in the movie! Why are you writing about stuff that never happened?"  
  
"Oh, it happened," assured Luna. "Off-screen."  
  
"So what did you think?" asked Ginny, solemnly. "Overall?"  
  
Harry shrugged, really not knowing what to say. He looked for some means of escape but Ginny and Luna leaned in, trapping him in the chair. "Well, umm, you use manhood a lot. I don't think a bunch of greasers in the sixties would say manhood. "  
  
"Cock?"  
  
"Yes, cock."  
  
"Hmmm, we'll consider it," said Ginny. "Did we at least get the sexual mechanics right?"  
  
"I don't know! I've never done anything. I know just as much about it as you guys." Harry considered what he just read. "Less, actually. But that bit with the diesel and crowbar. Seems to me like it would just really fucking hurt. Plus, I don't think it's even physically possible."  
"I thought that part was a little over the top. Time to edit, Luna."  
  
"But I liked that scene," said Luna, worried. "We can't cut it!"  
  
Harry slowly backed away. They looked like such innocent girls. Who knew they could be so perverted? He winced, thinking once more about that crowbar.  
  
"Hurry up, everyone!" Ron shouted from the living room. "I'm on."  
  
There was a veritable stampede as all in-residence Weasleys rushed to living room.  
  
"Oh! My baby!" cooed Mrs. Weasley, clasping her hands to her chest as a sweaty and dirty Ron appeared on the TV, hamming it up to the cameras.  
  
"Move a little to left, dear," said Mr. Weasley, from behind a camcorder. "You're blocking the screen."  
  
"Why doesn't he just record it on the VCR?" Harry asked Ron in a whisper.  
  
"That's how Dad is with his toys. He bought that a few days so he can tape Bill's wedding. He's been recording everything possible. Oh!" Ron cut himself off, letting out a sound that sounded suspiciously like a hiss.  
  
An image of Blaise being interviewed was on the TV. He grabbed the remote of the coffee table and shut the TV off in a snit.  
  
"I don't want to see that," Ron said testily.  
  
Now that Ron's fifteen minutes of fame were over, he and Harry decided to go to the Three Broomsticks. Ginny whined until Ron agreed to take her and Luna along. There, they met up with several members of the team. As expected, all that anyone wanted to talk about was that afternoon's practice and how they might get Blaise to quit.  
  
Harry left the rather mind-numbing discussion when he saw Terry Boot loitering in the arcade section with a tall, yellow-haired girl in glasses. He had been trying to call Terry on the phone all week but he never seemed able to reach him. Since Harry had been keeping the phone line busy talking to Draco, he just assumed he had missed Terry's return calls.  
  
"Hey, Terry," said Harry, smiling as he approached. "I tried calling you. Is everything okay with your family?"  
  
"Huh?" Terry asked. He looked around nervously.  
  
"Your family emergency," Harry prompted. "Remember?"  
  
"Oh, Terry!" exclaimed the girl. "You didn't tell me about that!"  
  
"It was nothing. Everything's okay now." Terry turned to the girl. "Can you give me a minute, Lisa?"  
  
Lisa looked inquiringly at Harry, then nodded and walked away.  
  
"So that's Lisa? She's pretty."  
  
"Yeah...Ummm, Harry, I really can't stay. We were just about to go."  
  
"Oh, okay. I just wanted to know when you wanted to hold our film fest. I can't this week, because I have to work but I've got-"  
  
"About that," interrupted Terry, biting his lip and staring down at the floor. "I can't do it. I'll be pretty busy these next few weeks and with school starting soon there's just no time. I'm sorry, Harry. I really am."  
  
He gave Harry a distressed look and hesitantly turned away.  
  
Harry watched him leave, feeling very much taken aback. Terry had just completely and totally blown him off. There was no mistaking it; he had experienced it too many times in the past. No time? Too busy? That was complete bullshit. Terry just didn't want to do it. What had changed this last week? Harry had thought they'd gotten along quite well on their fake date. He guessed not. One thing was clear though; Terry was no longer interested in being his friend.  
  
This, he could not lay on Dudley's doorstep. He had always kind of assumed that without Dudley around bullying everyone away from him, that he might have had a few friends back in Surrey. Apparently that was not the case. It must have been him all along. Really. Dudley wasn't that terrifying, now that Harry thought about it. Not terrifying at all. No one had wanted to be his friend because they all knew he was some lame and pathetic fag who wasn't worth their time.  
  
It would be no different here. No different at all. Sure, he had Ron but would they have even been friends if Sirius hadn't pushed them together? No. Their paths wouldn't have even crossed. And whatever it was he had with Draco? That wouldn't last. How could it? Draco was cute, rich, and probably popular. And Harry was a sad little four-eyed geek with an ugly scar on his forehead. Draco would see him for what he was and find someone better.  
  
The noisy, crowded arcade suddenly felt very oppressive and Harry felt a sudden urge to leave. He waded through the throng of teens, going to the nearest exit, only stopping to ask Luna to tell Ron that he was taking a walk and would get himself home.  
  
He walked and walked until the bright lights of downtown Hogsmeade faded into the darker and quieter residential streets. Harry was a little lost, not completely familiar with the area yet, but he didn't quite care at this point. He had no particular destination in mind but when he reached the high school and saw Godric's Hollow in the distance, he knew that's where he wanted to go.  
  
Ten minutes later Harry stood at the front door and just as before it opened right up for him. He was going to have to fix the locks when-if he got Godric's Hollow back. He hated the idea of anyone breaking in, especially because his parents' things were still there. It felt very cool inside, which was quite strange considering it was hot and humid outside. He chalked it up to just another oddity of an old house. Grimmauld Place was like that sometimes. Some rooms were warm, others cool.  
  
The sun hung low on the horizon and it would be dark soon. Harry wasted no time. He wanted to see the rest of the house while he still could. He went up the stairs and found five large bedrooms and three bathrooms. He explored every room before coming upon the nursery. James Potter must have been a Bears fan as the room was decorated with the teams' colors and mascot. In the small crib there was a knitted Bears baby blanket and a small stuffed football. Harry draped the blanket around him in a shawl-like fashion to ward off a bit of the chill and went back downstairs.  
  
He thought he had seen everything on the lower level but just to be sure, he retraced his steps from his last visit. Harry was in the kitchen, just about to turn back, when he saw a previously unnoticed hallway. He thought it just led to the back door but on closer inspection he saw there was yet another room. He opened the doors without hesitation.  
  
Blood. Lots and lots of blood. Dark, aged blood splattered across the walls.  
  
Harry fell into the room with a stagger.  
  
So this was where they were murdered, Harry thought with a surreal serenity.  
  
Harry thought he ought to scream. Or cry, maybe. But he just stood there, looking at the walls with a detached sort of interest. He felt a sudden calm, peripherally aware that he should be, in fact, breaking into hysterics. A peculiar soothing coldness washed over him and seemed to intensify with each passing second. It was like being stroked by finger-like icicles. The bracing cold resolved Harry and he dropped the blanket to the floor.  
  
He went to the nearest wall and swept a hand across it. This was the closest he would ever get in touching any part of his parents, Harry thought, morbidly, as he palmed every reachable inch of the bloodied walls. When he was finished he sat crossed legged in the middle of the floor. With a quick roll of the head he had a 360-degree view of the entire room.  
  
Harry wondered how there could be so much blood. He hadn't thought it possible that the human body could bleed like this. But then, this was not just the blood of one but of three; his father, mother and that Riddle guy. All mixed together in an almost artistic design.  
  
The patterns began to blur into a swirling mass of brown and white as Harry tried to fight the threatening tears. The battle was lost before it began and a low, guttural howl jerked out of his body with a most violent force.  
  
He rolled to his side and gathered the baby blanket under his face in a makeshift pillow. It did little to muffle the sobs echoing through the dark, abandoned house. It wasn't long before he felt the icicles again, moving up and down his back; arctic in strength but as comforting as a warm caress, lulling Harry into a deep slumber.  
  
Harry hadn't even realized that he had fallen asleep until he woke up. He rubbed tiredly at his face, finding it gross and sticky with dried tears and snot. He thought he had only slept for a few minutes but a glance at his watch revealed that it was nearing one in morning.  
  
Fuck.  
  
Sirius had never given him a set curfew, but he knew if he didn't get home soon, he'd probably be in trouble. He took a final, miserable glance around the room and shuddered. Just don't look at it, Harry told himself as he closed his eyes and stumbled, blindly, to the door. He slammed the French doors shut and ran out of the house. Harry didn't stop running until he reached a pay phone at a convenience store, and he called a cab.  
  
0000000  
  
He wasn't surprised to find Sirius waiting for him. His godfather was lying on a couch in the parlor, watching TV in the darkened room. Severus was asleep and awkwardly curled up on top of him, gently snoring away as Sirius idly trailed a finger up and down his large nose.  
  
"There you are," whispered Sirius. "I was about to send a search party after you."  
  
"Lost track of time," Harry mumbled quietly.  
  
"Just give me a call and let me know if you're going to be out late next time."  
  
Harry nodded and stared at him. He wondered if Sirius knew about the bloody room. He hadn't seemed very troubled when Harry mentioned he had gone there while Sirius was in jail. Wouldn't have Sirius reacted a bit stronger if he knew about it?  
  
"I went to Godric's Hollow tonight," Harry blurted out.  
  
"You really shouldn't go there," Sirius said with a frown.  
  
"Why?" tested Harry.  
  
"Well, technically, you're trespassing and if you get caught it might cause some problems. We don't want to do anything to hurt your case. You should stay away until everything's settled."  
  
"Have you been inside? Like recently?"  
  
"I went up there about a week before I brought you home. I tried to get inside but couldn't. Did manage to break into the garage and steal James' Firebolt for you." Sirius grinned. "We'll keep that little fact to ourselves. Legally, it belongs to Shane Potter since when he bought the house he got everything that went with it. But I don't think he'll miss the bike."  
  
No. Sirius definitely didn't know. And Harry wasn't about to tell him. In spite of everything, Harry wanted to go back and he figured Sirius would forbid it if he knew.  
  
As tired as he was, sleep did not come easily to Harry. In fact, it did not come at all. By the time daylight broke, Harry was still awake, engulfed entirely in his blankets, desperately trying to avoid thinking about his parents' grisly murder.  
  
Thoughts of the bloody room niggled away at him, though, and Harry surrendered to his curiosity. All he knew were the vague details that Sirius had given him. He wanted-needed-to know more.  
  
He tried to ask Sirius about it over breakfast but the man was quite evasive; uncomfortable with the topic. After much pestering Sirius finally gave in, but he ended up telling Harry the same things he had told him before. Harry noticed Severus listening to Sirius' explanation with more than a little scorn. He plainly had something he wanted to say but he was holding back his tongue.  
  
Harry eventually cornered Severus alone in the kitchen after lunch.  
  
"I know you know something," Harry told him. "Something about my parents' murder. And I want to know what it is."  
  
Severus wouldn't look at him, heavily engrossed in chewing on the tip of a toothpick. He seemed to be engaged in some internal debate. Unfortunately, just Harry thought he would capitulate, Sirius walked by the doorway, breaking Severus' reverie.  
  
"Damn delusional fool," Severus murmured with a shake of his head. He turned impassive black eyes to Harry and he knew that Severus had changed his mind. He wasn't going to tell him a thing. "Best to let sleeping dogs lie, boy. No good can come from answers you seek."  
  
Harry wanted to scream in frustration. He had a right to know and he'd be damned if he didn't get some answers. He wouldn't ask Sirius about it again. In his quest for information, he had forgotten that he wasn't the only one who had lost James and Lily Potter. It was visibly painful for Sirius to talk about the murders and Harry didn't want to cause him any preventable pain. Severus, on the other hand, was less emotionally invested. He'd find out what Severus knew. He'd work on him until Severus broke and sang like a canary. He just needed to do it when Sirius wasn't around.  
  
In the meanwhile, Harry's last resort was Remus Lupin. He questioned Remus at work on Monday but the lawyer proved to be more oblique about it than Sirius, if that was even possible.  
  
"You should talk to Sirius about it," was all Remus would say on the matter.  
  
Predictably, Draco stopped by the firm during Harry's lunch break. Harry knew this moment would come and had already prepared his excuse. It was with a heavy heart that Harry told Draco that he was sorry, but Shacklebolt needed him to work through his lunch hour.  
  
He felt a lingering sadness long after Draco had left, and he tried keep himself busy with filing. It was better this way. Harry was certain their relationship, if you could call it that, was doomed for failure. Dragging things out would only make it worse when the end came. He would just have to get used to being alone, again. He had been his entire life. So why did the idea burn so much now?  
  
Sirius, Severus and Snuffles all came by to pick Harry up that afternoon. Sirius was in an uncommonly good mood. The reason for his cheer revealed itself when they arrived home and Severus pulled a big bag of dog food out of the bed of the truck, along with several other items that unmistakably belonged to a dog.  
  
"Is Snuffles coming to live with us?" asked Harry.  
  
"Yep!"  
  
"You wish, Black. It's only until I get back."  
  
"We'll see about that!' said Sirius, with a conniving smile on his face.  
  
"Until you get back? Are you leaving?"  
  
"He's flying to Texas to see his precious daddy for a few days," answered Sirius, casting a sad look in Severus' direction. "But he'll be back, Friday afternoon."  
  
Harry was feeling a bit sad himself. He couldn't harass Severus into talking, if he wasn't around to be harassed.  
  
Severus had an exceedingly long list of directions for Snuffles that he went over several times. He appeared to have grave doubts about Sirius' ability to care for the animal.  
  
"Maybe I should just take him with me," mused Severus. "I could drive. If I left now I'd make it to Tex-"  
  
"He'll be fucking fine!" Sirius rolled his eyes. "Just go or you'll miss your damn plane."  
  
And Severus did go, but only after extracting strict promises from Harry and Sirius that they would adhere to his every rule. Snuffles settled by the front door, expecting Severus to return at any moment. After a few hours Sirius was finally able to coax him away with a big bone.  
  
That evening Harry declined an invitation from Ron to go out and when Draco called, Harry instructed Sirius to tell Draco that he was not home.  
  
"What's going on?" asked Sirius when he returned to the study where Harry was watching his parents' wedding again. "Having problems with Draco?"  
  
"No, things just didn't work out," said Harry.  
  
"Does Draco know that things didn't work out? He seemed eager to talk to you."  
  
Harry shrugged, hoping Sirius would drop it.  
  
"Do you want to talk about it?"  
  
"Not especially."  
  
"Well...I'll be right here if you change your mind." Sirius hesitantly returned to his desk. He had been there all night, first filling out a series of forms then pounding away on an ancient typewriter. He refused to tell Harry what he was working on, claiming that doing so might jinx him.  
  
Harry left Sirius to his task, and, went up to his room after the final reel ended. He sat on his bed and played with the silver dragon Draco had given him. Many a night saw Harry in a similar position, caressing the smooth scales as he talked, contentedly, with Draco on the phone. There was no contentment now; just a feeling of forlorn resignation.  
  
The dragon had obviously meant a great deal to Draco and Harry knew he didn't deserve to have it since they wouldn't be seeing each other anymore. He found an old shoebox and carefully packed the dragon away so that it would not get damaged. He'd give it to Draco when he came to the law firm tomorrow.  
  
000000  
  
AN: Well, looks like Draco's plan backfired. Opps! Or did it? Find out in the next chapter!  
  
Also, some people have asked me to email them when I update. I am far to lazy to collect email addresses but if you have a account you can add me to your author alert and it will send you an email when I post a new chapter. Or you can keep an eye on my LJ at: Add me to your f-list if you like, I don't bite. Though you will also be spammed with my pathetic RL ramblings.  
  
Please review! Feedback makes me happy!


	6. Chapter Six

**Repetitions**

Chapter Six

**Pairing**: H/D  
**Rating**: R/NC-17 The "R" version will be archived at and the "NC-17" version will be posted at Please check my profile for links if you prefer the alternate version. This chapter is rated R and is the same in both places.  
**Warnings**: Complete AU, No Magic, Set in America, Slash, WIP  
**Disclaimer**: Do I really need to put this here? Yes? Fine, then. Everything belongs to JKR. She is God but has been kind enough to let us play with her creations.  
**Beta: **Solarisday (thanks so much!)  
**Summary**: Orphaned Harry Potter is adopted by Sirius Black just before his 17th birthday. In his new town, he begins a relationship with Draco Malfoy and tries to uncover the truth of his parents' mysterious death.  
**Author Notes**: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far! I appreciate every single one. Keep them coming! They are like crack and I am a crack whore.

A few you were a bit confused about the bloodied room at Godric's Hollow. About whether or not it had been painted over. I hadn't shown it actually being done but there were two scenes that referenced it. The first was when Harry talks to Ron and the twins in the kitchen at GP and the second was when Draco was floating in his pool. Basically, they had painted over the blood and it had reappeared. Rather odd, huh? snickers You all will learn why later on, but I have provided a rather large hint about it in a post I made to my livejournal. I will speak more about that in my closing A/N at the bottom.

000000

Harry was disappointed when Draco showed up at the law firm. Part of him hoped Draco wouldn't. He didn't want to do this. Didn't know how to do it.

He grabbed the shoebox from a drawer in his desk and took Draco to the small park behind the law firm where they usually went on their lunch dates. Draco eyed the box curiously but did not ask questions. Harry managed to find an empty spot in the crowded park underneath a large tree. It wasn't completely isolated, as Harry would have liked. An elegantly dressed older man sat nearby, busying himself with a newspaper.

Draco chattered lightly about the coming school year, which was due to start next week. Harry was only half listening to him, thinking about how he might go about it. _Sorry, Draco, but I just want to be friends_, was too trite. And it wasn't even true. Harry didn't want to be friends with Draco. He wanted-well, it didn't matter what he wanted anymore.

Harry felt long arms encircle his shoulders and a pair of lips brush across his cheek. He stiffened and hesitantly pulled out of the embrace.

"Sorry," Draco said, ruefully. "You looked upset."

"Oh," Harry said, dumbly. He couldn't even look at Draco. Why did he have to be so nice? It wasn't making things any easier.

"What's wrong, Harry?" asked Draco, after a terse pause. "You've barely talked today. Are you mad at me?"

Harry nervously bit at his lower lip. He stared at the tips of his shoes as he gripped the box tightly in his hands.

"No…I just…" He made the mistake of looking into Draco's gray eyes and felt his resolve dwindling away. His hold on the box eased and he set it on the bench beside him. He couldn't do it. "It's nothing. I've just been thinking about my parents a lot lately."

It wasn't a complete lie, but it wasn't the cause for his present distress. Draco murmured consolingly and draped an arm around Harry's neck. They sat that way for some time, completely silent. Occasionally, Draco would lift Harry's face up for a small kiss. There was nothing especially untoward about their actions but their intimacy was made a little scandalous simply because they were both boys. Passer-bys stopped at times stop to gawk at them and Draco would smirk, then kiss Harry again.

Harry lingered in the park after Draco left. He should not have let Draco kiss him. Not when things were to end soon. Harry told himself he wouldn't chicken out tomorrow. He would give the dragon back to Draco and that would be that.

But…

It felt so good to be with Draco; to talk to Draco. To touch and kiss him. He would miss him. But it was for the best to end things now. Draco might be upset at first, but he'd get over it. The day would come when Draco would laugh and wonder why he ever had anything to do with Harry Potter.

And, Harry reasoned, if only thinking about not being with Draco felt this horrible now, how awful would it be, later on, when Draco realized he was making a mistake and found someone better. Harry had no doubts it would happen. Yes, it was better this way, even if it didn't feel like it. Tomorrow. He'd definitely do it tomorrow.

"You are a coward, Harry," a rather dignified voice called out.

Harry's head jerked up and he looked around for the sound of the voice. "Excuse me?"

There was a shuffling sound to his left as the man behind the paper stood up and walked over to Harry.

"I said, you are a coward, Harry."

Harry's eyes widened. "Er…Do I know you?"

"No," said the man, with a small chuckle. "But we have met once before. I am Dedalus Diggle and you are Harry Potter. Correct?"

Harry vaguely recalled meeting the man. "Umm, right."

"Thought so. I never forget a name." Dedalus gave a self-effacing smile. "You must forgive me for prying but you were thinking aloud and I couldn't help but overhear. I have always had a big nose and am constantly sticking it where it doesn't belong. My mother used to tell me that interfering in other people's affairs would get me in trouble someday and she was proved absolutely correct in that assertion. Unfortunately, it seems, I have yet to heed her message."

Harry reddened. He was at a loss for words. Had Dedalus heard everything he was thinking?

"Don't you care to know why you are a coward?" inquired Dedalus as he sat on the bench next to Harry. "I'd certainly want to know why a meddlesome old man was calling me names."

Harry merely looked about anxiously. Dedalus must have taken Harry's silence as an affirmation as he continued, "You think it's only a matter of time before your young man leaves you, so it's better to leave him now so that you do not get hurt at a later time. Well, Harry, that is a very foolish and cowardly way to live. Life is hard and you are going to get hurt. It's inevitable. You can lock yourself and try to avoid pain but that is not living. That is merely existing.

"In life, you have to take a chance and not let fear hold you back. Sometimes, when you are staring into a sea of uncertainty, you just have to let yourself fall into it. Let the tide take you where it will. I let myself fall once. And when I crashed it seemed as if my soul had been drowning in agony for eons. It was the most terrifying and wonderful thing I have ever experienced. Despite the painful consequences, I have never regretted the choice. Not once."

He stood up and patted Harry on the shoulder. "Well, I have used up enough of your time. But take some advice from someone who knows about these sorts of things. Give your young man a chance. It's true. Things might end badly. However, they might not. You'll never know unless you let yourself find out."

Dedalus gave Harry a nod and strolled, leisurely, away. Harry stared after him, a little dazed at the gumption of the man. The advice, though unsolicited and unwanted, rang in Harry's ears.

Harry was still thinking about it, later that afternoon. He had gotten off work early to go to football practice. He was in the locker room, undressing, not even bothering to pretend interest in the conversation around him as he mulled over Dedalus' words.

He kept his eyes glued to the closed locker door before him so as to not see any of the half naked young men carousing in the aisles. Ron and Justin had taken the lockers on each side of Harry. The two boys seemed to rule the team and with their show of support, no one dared to say anything offensive to Harry. But it was clear many of the players were uncomfortable with his presence and Harry would much prefer avoiding any unfounded accusations of impropriety.

"God, you're pretty gloomy, today," said Ron as he put on and adjusted his jockstrap. "Take a look in your locker. There's something in there that might make you happy."

Harry opened his locker and had to smile. Ron Weasley's idea of happiness would have to be a brand new football jersey. It was a deep purple with touches of white and silver here and there. The name "Potter" was emblazoned across the back and below that was a large '58'. On the shelf above the hanging jersey was a purple helmet with a white silhouette of a wand shooting tiny little stars. It finally felt official. Harry was a member of the Hogsmeade Sorcerers, state champions for the last two years. Ron had said their mascot was a wizard played by none other than Mr. Dumbledore himself.

"So, what do you think?" Ron asked eagerly. "They arrived yesterday. Like your number?"

Harry snickered. "It's…" He stopped and looked at the '58' again. He then recalled an old yearbook photo of a young football player who looked very much like himself. "That was my dad's number!"

"I know! I looked it up and since it was open this year I asked Hooch to give it to you."

He might have hugged Ron at that moment, had they been alone and well, not naked. Things being what they were, he settled for a firm smack on Ron's back and a hearty, "Thanks, man!"

Ron smiled, returned the slap and went to join the immature congratulating of the blushing freshman that had gotten the very coveted number of sixty-nine.

Harry stared at him, filled with a warm, indescribable feeling. So maybe they wouldn't have been friends were it not for Sirius but they _were_ friends now and that's what counted. Right?

Right.

It was a grueling practice, and afterwards, Harry wasn't in the mood to do anything but go home and take a nice long nap. Harry didn't know if he would last much longer. He was certain he'd end up in a body brace before school even started.

Sirius and Remus were both in the study at Grimmauld Place. Sirius was once again at his typewriter while Remus sat at a small table making marks on a yellow legal pad. Remus had mentioned at work that he'd be staying over. Harry wondered if that meant Tonks was in the hospital but thought it too intrusive to ask.

"Hey, Harry," said Sirius, momentarily looking up from his typewriter. "How was practice?"

"Mostly awful," said Harry. "Except for when I found out that Ron gave me my dad's old number."

Sirius' face lit up. "That was nice of him."

Harry nodded and suppressed a yawn. "I'm gonna go take a nap."

Sirius motioned towards a small table next to a dilapidated wingback chair. "Before you go, some mail came for you today."

Harry curiously went over to the table. He had never received mail before and wondered who could possibly be writing to him. But, as it turned out, the letter was merely from the high school. It was an invitation to the new student orientation that was to be held on this up-coming Saturday morning with a school-wide festival to follow.

He had already known about it as the football field would be commandeered that day, thus moving their regular Saturday practice to Sunday afternoon. Harry handed the letter over to Sirius who seemed rather keen on going.

"You only want to go so you can bug Severus," said Remus.

Sirius smirked but did not deny it.

"Oh, Harry," said Remus as Harry was turning to leave. "I need to give the projector back to Creevey tomorrow so if you want to watch the reels again, you'll need to do it tonight."

Though Harry was very tired, he wanted to get in one final viewing while he could. Harry's body, however, had other plans and it was shortly after the exchanging of rings that Harry fell asleep as he laid on a couch in the study.

Sometime later Harry was nudged into wakefulness as Sirius pushed a throw pillow under his head and tried to adjust Harry's body into a more comfortable position.

Harry snuggled into the pillow, trying to recapture his sweet slumber. He heard a clicking sound as someone turned off the projector.

"Harry's going to wear those films out, as much as he watches them," said Sirius. "I have to wonder if it healthy. Maybe I should have him talk to someone. Like a counselor."

Harry tensed. He didn't need to see some stupid counselor!

"Might not be a bad idea," said Remus. "Though, I thought he took it all much better than to be expected. He's been asking me about them, you know. James and Lily and how they died."

"What did you say to him?"

Remus sighed heavily. "I didn't know what to say to him. I told him to talk to you about it."

"Hmmm. I just don't understand what brought on all these questions. I already told him what happened."

"Well, it's only natural that the boy would be curious," said Remus. "And I wouldn't be surprised if someone said something to him. There was a lot of renewed interest in the murders after that book came out."

"That damn book!" Sirius exclaimed bitterly. "Rita Skeeter is one lucky bitch that I was in prison when she wrote that fucking thing!"

The book!

He had completely forgotten about it. Draco had said something about a book when they were in Ollivander's Antiques.

Harry lay perfectly still so not to let them know he was awake and listening. He strained to hear more but the conversation was already moving on to Tonks, who, as Harry had suspected, was back in the hospital.

He continued to feign sleep for several more minutes then let out a fake yawn as if he had just woken up. He wanted to turn the projector back on but opted against it lest Sirius and Remus start their "counselor" talk again.

Instead, he went up to his room where he stared at the phone next to his bed, debating whether to call Draco.

Harry wanted to. Badly. And not just to ask him about the book.

He still hadn't made a decision by the time Sirius called him down for dinner. And afterwards, Sirius decided that they ought to take their bikes out so Harry could get more practice riding at night.

Harry welcomed the distraction. He needed time to clear his head and think about what he wanted to do.

It seemed wrong to call Draco tonight, act like everything was okay, and then break up with him tomorrow.

And was it even breaking up? They hadn't been on a date. Haven't really seen much of each other thanks to Lucius Malfoy's annoying habit of grounding his son. All that they had shared were a handful of meetings and a few kisses.

No, it wasn't breaking up. It was just…not starting something. It should have been easier to think of it that way.

It wasn't. Not by a long shot.

God! Why did life have to be so difficult?

But was he making things harder than they needed to be?

Maybe he _was_ being cowardly and foolish.

Harry thought about it. What would be possibly served by saying goodbye to Draco?

It wasn't as if he was sparing himself any agony. Misery was all Harry had felt since he first entertained the thought of not seeing Draco anymore. Plus, he'd just end up hurting the feelings of a boy who had done nothing wrong but like him.

And Draco _did_ like him.

Who cared if Terry Boot didn't? It shouldn't matter.

It _didn't_ matter.

Draco liked him and maybe it was only for now but Dedalus was right. He wouldn't know unless he let himself find out. And Harry wanted to find out. Draco was worth taking a chance on. He'd stand on the edge and let himself…fall.

He only hoped he could handle the pain of crashing.

Upon returning to Grimmauld Place, Harry went directly to his room, overflowing with the elation of his ride and of having finally come to an absolute decision. He quickly dialed Draco's number before old doubts returned and smiled when Draco answered the phone.

0000000

Harry looked down at the scrap of paper in his hand then back at the stacks of books on the shelf before him, searching for _Phoenix Descending_ by Rita Skeeter, a local resident of Hogsmeade. According to Draco, it had been published more than ten years ago and had caused quite a stir when it had come out. Draco didn't have any information, other than that, having not actually read the book.

It was Harry's lunch break. Draco had swim practice and had been unable to have lunch with him. Having nothing else to do, Harry went to the bookshop, Flourish and Botts, which sat a few buildings down from the law firm in hopes that the storemight have the book.

Unfortunately, Flourish and Botts seemed to only carry classic literature and academic books. The clerk behind the cash register confirmed they did not have the book and suggested that Harry try the library or one of the chain bookstores out by the mall.

It was too far to walk to the mall and Harry wasn't sure where the library was located. Giving up for the day, he went to a delicatessen and figured he could at least quell the rumbling in his stomach. He took his lunch to the park and tore off bits of his bread to feed the birds.

They scattered as someone approached.

"All alone today?" asked Dedalus Diggle. He shook his head sadly. "And I had so hoped you would take my advice."

"Oh, I didn't-I mean, I did. I did take it. I didn't break up with him."

Dedalus smiled broadly. "Glad to hear it. I've seen you two, frolicking about the park…"

Harry fought the urge to protest to that he and Draco did _not_ frolic.

"Such a wonderful sight, to see young love blossoming before one's very eyes," continued Dedalus. "Does an old man's heart good. I could not sit idly by and watch it needlessly torn asunder."

Dedalus took a seat on the bench across from Harry. He pulled out an oddly shaped, but beautifully carved wooden pipe and lit it with a match. "Beautiful, isn't it?" asked Dedalus, lifting the pipe. "An old African chief gave this to me after I helped him out of a spot of trouble. Gorgeous place, Africa. Have you ever been?"

"I've never been anywhere."

"Pity. Make sure you take the time to travel before you settle down. You'll regret it, if you don't. I've been all over this swirling blue marble of ours. But that was in my earlier years, long before your mother was even a gleam in your grandmother's eye."

"You don't look that old."

"Oh, thank you," Dedalus said graciously. "I do like to take to care of myself. But, let me assure you, I'm quite ancient. Appearances can very deceiving."

Harry continued talking to Dedalus until it was time for him to return to work. He wasn't quite sure why he stayed. Talking with random strangers wasn't a usual occurrence for him. But Dedalus seemed like a nice old man, though a little eccentric. Harry supposed he might feel a little obligated to him, for had it not been for Dedalus' interference, he probably would have broken up with Draco and be wallowing in self-created despair.

He worked a full day, not having practice that afternoon. Remus was going to take them both home to Grimmauld Place but he first needed to finish a phone conference. Harry waited for him in the mostly empty outer office, making calls to the other bookstores in town.

Harry was very eager to get a hold of that book, He had a feeling it would contain all the answers he sought. Answers that no one wanted to give him. He had spoken to Ron and Draco about it briefly, but neither boy seemed to know any more than Harry. The murders had taken place so long ago and everyone had moved on. It was old news. Old news for everyone but Harry.

Unfortunately,_ Phoenix Descending_, it appeared, had been out of print for a few years and no one had a copy on hand. Several stores offered to back order it for him but it would take a few weeks to arrive. Harry decided to save that as a last resort. He wanted to try the library first.

Shacklebolt came out of his office. He stopped before Harry and patiently waited as Harry finished his call with the last bookstore.

"There have been some developments in your case that I need to talk to you and Sirius about," said Shacklebolt after Harry hung up the phone. "I have openings tomorrow at eleven and anytime after three. Ask Sirius when he can make it and tell him to give me a call at home."

"Can't you just tell me now?" Harry asked, eager to know what the developments might be.

"I would, Harry, but I'd prefer speaking with you both at the same time."

"All right," Harry said, disappointed. "I'll have him call you."

Remus emerged shortly after Shacklebolt had left. Before going to Grimmauld Place, they stopped at a flower shop named Sprout's so that Remus could have some flowers delivered to Tonks. As Remus directed a worker in the creation of a large arrangement of roses, Harry picked out a smaller bouquet. It wasn't nearly as elaborate or expensive as Remus' but it was colorful and funky-like Tonks. Harry thought she would like them.

Harry took his selection to the front counter where a heavy bellied man with a cheerful smile manned the register.

"I want these sent to the same person as him," said Harry, pointing across the shop to where Remus was standing.

"All right," said the man. He grabbed a small card from a pile on the counter. "What would you like on the card?"

"Umm. Get well soon?" It was a bit clichéd but Harry didn't know what else to put.

"And your name?"

"Harry Potter."

A loud crashing sound came from a room behind the counter, followed by a stream of muffled cursing.

The man started and turned his head towards the room. "Are you okay, Neville?"

"Yes, Mr. Sprout. Sorry about that," came a young, male voice. "I'll clean it up."

Mr. Sprout nodded, his forehead furrowed with puzzlement. He returned to the counter and started to write Harry's name on the card. He paused as some sort of realization seemed to dawn. "Oh…"

"Is there a problem?" asked Harry. Mr. Sprout hadn't moved for several seconds, lost in his own thoughts.

"No," said Mr. Sprout with a small, distracted smile. "That will be $19.45."

At Grimmauld Place, Sirius was outside, laughing as he chased Snuffles around the yard. There was a large van with Eeylops Emporium written across the doors parked by the garage. Through the open front door, Harry could hear loud hammering.

"What's going on, Sirius?" asked Remus as he got out of his car.

"They're putting together a little present I ordered for Snuffles," said Sirius. "It should be finished soon."

As soon as the words were out of Sirius' mouth two men clad in white coveralls came out, carrying large toolboxes.

"All done, Mr. Black," said one of the men.

Sirius thanked the men with a hefty tip then led everyone into the front entry hall. Pushed in a corner was a sleek, silver dome-like contraption. It was, as Harry soon learned, the Bow Wow 3000, the latest in hi-tech dog beds. It boasted an automatic backscratcher and a NASA created, space-age foam mattress with a heat pad and built in vibrating massagers. There was even a little radio that played a wide selection of soothing tunes.

Snuffles sat in the bed and growled happily as the massagers worked their magic.

"That's right, baby!" said Sirius as he was hunched on his hands and knees, grinning in Snuffles face. "Enjoy it! Just think, you could have it this good everyday, if you lived here."

"Jesus, Sirius! How much did that thing cost you?" asked Remus.

Sirius looked over his shoulder with a slight blush. "I'd rather not say."

"That much?"

Harry didn't doubt that Sirius _had_ paid a small fortune for it. Sirius' devotion to the dog bordered on insane. Ever since Snuffles had come to stay with them, Sirius had been romancing him with a passion. Wooing him with choice cuts of meat and gourmet doggie biscuits. Snuffles ate better than they did these days.

"Mr. Shacklebolt wants to see us tomorrow," said Harry, after Sirius had ceased his tender adoration of Snuffles. "About my case. He has openings at eleven and after three."

"Hmmm," said Sirius, scratching his chin. "Eleven is definitely out."

"I have to leave at 3:30 for practice."

"That's going to cut things a little close. I've an appointment that will last most of the day. Let me call Kingsley and see if we can find a workable time."

"What kind of appointment?" asked Harry, trailing after Sirius as he went to the study to call Shacklebolt.

Sirius grinned. "You'll find out tomorrow."

The finalized time was 3:15 PM. Shacklebolt had said their meeting wouldn't last long so Harry would be able to leave early and it gave Sirius enough time to make it there from his mysterious appointment.

That evening Sirius couldn't seem to sit still for anything. He was filled with a nervous energy and could often be found pacing the floors of Grimmauld Place or standing before the large gilded mirror in the parlor, fingering his long black locks.

Sirius' odd behavior intensified Harry's desire to know what he was up to, but Sirius wouldn't say a thing a thing about it.

"Tomorrow," was Sirius' final word on the matter.

Tomorrow didn't come fast enough. At 3:16 Harry sat anxiously at his desk, wondering where Sirius was. When the clock hand flicked over to seventeen, Harry rose and walked over to Mrs. Glasser, who was flirting with a handsome, well-dressed client.

Harry stood behind him and waited for Mrs. Glasser to finish speaking with the man. After a few seconds, she leaned over and asked, "Can I help you, dear?"

"Sorry for interrupting," said Harry. "But I was wondering if Sirius called and said he'd be late?"

The man twirled around. "I'm right here, Harry."

Harry's jaw dropped, literally.

When he had left Grimmauld Place this morning, Sirius had look like, well, Sirius. Long black hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, worn jeans and a tight t-shirt. Today, before Harry, stood a man in an expensive dark gray business suit. Sirius' hair had been shorn off into a short style that had the somewhat paradoxical effect of making him look more mature, yet years younger. The only distraction from Sirius' new professional appearance was the still visible cut that ran down his face.

"You didn't even recognize me!" exclaimed Sirius.

Harry shook his head. "Why do you look like that?"

"Thought it was time for a change."

"Is this for your appointment?" Harry was filled with sudden understanding. "You had a job interview!"

"Nope!" said Sirius, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Something even better."

Before Harry could ask what the something better was, Shacklebolt came out and said,

"Well damn, Sirius. You didn't need to get all spiffed up just to see me."

Sirius held out his arms and leered at Shacklebolt. "It's all for you."

Shacklebolt laughed as he motioned for them to follow him to his office. "I need to go home to my wife and reassure myself that I'm straight."

"It's all right to want a piece, Kingsley," said Sirius.

They continued their pretend flirting until everyone was settled. Shacklebolt quickly reverted back to lawyer mode when he pulled out Harry's file.

"I've called you in to find a suitable time for a meeting with Shane Potter and the Dursleys." He reached for his thick planner and flipped through the pages. "I have already spoken with their lawyers and the earliest time we could agree on was at one o'clock on September 13th. That's a Saturday. Would it work for the both of you?"

"Works for me," said Sirius as Harry nodded.

Shacklebolt scribbled into his planner. "We'll meet here, in one of the conference rooms. Now, Remus tells me that the Dursleys are still in possession of some of Harry's belongings. I've instructed Mr. Polkiss, their lawyer, to have them bring everything. Sirius, I want you to make an itemized list of everything you sent with Harry-everything you can remember. Bring it to me and I'll fax it to Polkiss to make sure they don't forget anything."

"Do you really think they'll give me back the house?" asked Harry.

"Well, I don't want to give you false hope," said Shacklebolt. "I am cautiously optimistic. The statute of limitations in this type of case has already well passed. But-" Shacklebolt shifted through Harry's file and plopped a stapled packet on his desk. Harry picked it up and recognized it as the final ruling of a court case. Several passages were highlighted in yellow. "This is the best thing we have going for us. _Fredricks vs. Robinson._ The case involved a minor child and some property near Chicago. It went as far as the Illinois Supreme Court and they ruled in the child's favor in 1994. The cases aren't exactly the same but there are enough similarities that I think we might be able to convince a judge that precedence has already been established. Hopefully, Mr. Potter will realize that and will want to avoid the cost and time of going to court."

"And if he doesn't?" asked Sirius.

"Then we file a lawsuit," said Shacklebolt. "I'm willing to take this as far as Harry wants. Well, that's all I have for now. I want to meet with you both a few days before the conference and we'll go over everything that will happen."

"So what's your big news?" demanded Harry as they returned to the main lobby of the firm.

"Later," said Sirius. "Ron's outside waiting for you. We're going to celebrate tonight. After practice have Ron drop you off at Jean-Pierre's. It's a restaurant. Ron can come along if he wants."

"But-"

"Go, or you'll be late."

Harry gave Sirius a pleading look but to no avail. Frustrated, he gathered his things and went out to meet Ron.

Practice seemed to last forever, with every minute dragging on for eternity. Finally, hours later, Harry and Ron were on their way to Jean-Pierre's. It was a swanky French restaurant constructed of glass and exposed golden beams. Even though it wasn't the weekend, the place was hopping and they had to wait several minutes in line.

A tall, snobby looking maître d' in a tux lifted his eyebrows when they approached. He could barely contain his sneer.

"Have you a reservation?" he asked, clearly doubting that they did.

"I don't know," said Harry, a little worried. "We're here to meet Sirius Black."

The man pursed his lips and looked down at his list. "Ah, yes. I have a reservation for Sirius Black at 7:25. The rest of your party has yet to arrive." He motioned towards a red, velvet-covered bench. "Wait here and someone will be along to seat you shortly."

Ron looked around at all the other patrons then down at his own body. Everyone else was dressed in suits and cocktail dresses. Harry wasn't too out of place in his button-down shirt and khakis but Ron stuck out like a sore thumb, wearing a t-shirt and jeans.

"Maybe I should go home and change," said Ron.

"Ah, you're fine, Ginger!" boomed a loud, rough voice.

They looked over to see Tenebrus in a doorway that looked like it led to the kitchens. He wore a sauce-splattered chef's uniform and carried a wooden spoon. The uniform was black with the sleeves torn off and his puffy chef's hat had a series of skulls embroidered around the band.

"Hi, Tenebrus," said Harry. "You work here?"

Harry was surprised. Of all the occupations he might have attributed to the gruff biker, being the chef at an expensive French restaurant was not among them.

"I don't just work here," said Tenebrus, a bit smugly. "I am Jean-Pierre!"

Tenebrus waved for the maître d' to come over and whispered in his ear for a few minutes as he gestured madly with his spoon. Afterwards, he motioned towards Harry and Ron and said, "These are special guests of mine. Make sure you treat them right."

"Of course, Mr. Devereaux."

After that the man dropped his disdainful manner and became the epitome of sycophantic servitude. He seated them at the best table in the restaurant and plied them complimentary drinks and appetizers.

It wasn't long before Sirius and Remus arrived. Harry immediately peppered him with questions but Sirius headed them off as he leisurely perused his menu. A few minutes later, a waiter came to their table to take their order. He soon returned with a bottle of wine and set of wine glasses.

"A gift, from Mr. Devereaux, by way of congratulations."

Sirius looked at the bottle's label and let out a low whistle, "Chateau Margeux. Well, thank you very much, Tenebrus."

Ron took one of the wine glasses and held it out to Sirius with a hopeful grin.

"Sirius!" admonished Remus as Sirius poured a Ron a glass.

"Oh! It's just a little," said Sirius, giving Harry a glass as well. "It's not going to hurt them."

"Superb bouquet," Ron said in a snooty voice as he sniffed his glass and took a big swallow. "Fruity, with a hint of Oak, I think. Good year, but _I_ prefer the '86."

"Do you even know what you're talking about?" Harry asked, snickering.

"Nope!"

"Don't gulp it, boys," said Sirius, seeing them do just that. "That wine you're drinking costs hundreds. It's to be savored."

Harry nearly choked on his wine. It was all right, but in all honesty, he vastly preferred his three-dollar glass of root beer. Harry supposed he simply wasn't cultured enough to appreciate the finer things in life.

Ron, however, was appreciating it just fine. Though Harry had a feeling it wouldn't matter much to Ron if he were drinking an expensive French wine or a cheap bottle of Boone's Farm. When Sirius and Remus weren't looking, he exchanged his nearly full glass for Ron's empty one.

"Will you please stop teasing and tell us what we're celebrating?" asked Remus, letting out all the exasperation everyone was feeling.

Sirius smiled and sat down his glass. "Well, you are now looking at the newest student in Hogsmeade University's M.A.E program."

"You're going back to school?" This was not, at all, what Harry was expecting.

"How the hell did you manage that?" asked Remus, not quite believing it. "The new term starts on Monday and I know for a fact that the application process takes months."

"It's really amazing what you can accomplish when you're rich," said Sirius, his grin deepening.

"You bribed them!"

Sirius frowned at Remus. "I didn't buy my way in, if that's what you're implying. I'm not entirely stupid. I did graduate from Hogsmeade University with top honors, you know."

"I know," insisted Remus. "But that still doesn't explain how you got in so fast."

"Let's just say the admissions council was more than happy to expedite my application when I told them about the very generous endowment I was considering making to the school. A little something I like to call the Sirius Black Scholarship Fund."

Remus shook with laughter. "Sounds like something for studious African Americans."

"Ha! You're such a comedian."

"What's the M.A.E. program?" asked Harry.

"Master of Arts in Education," said Sirius.

"So you want to be a teacher? Just like Severus. I wonder what he'll think of that."

"That's what I was going to do, had I not been sent to prison. I loved school so much, I didn't want to leave."

"Don't see why. You spent most of it in detention."

"And you were right there with me, Remus." Sirius paused and looked at Ron. "Speaking of Severus…Ron, do you think Harry can stay at your house tomorrow night? Remus is going home tomorrow and I don't want Harry staying alone; especially with that old loon, Kreacher, lurking around."

Harry scowled. He wasn't seven for Christ's sake. Not that he cared if he had to stay with the Weasleys but he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. Sometimes Sirius tended to be overly protective.

"Where will you be?"

"Well, I'll be at Severus' all night," said Sirius, grinning slyly. "He'll be in a very good mood when he gets home and I intend to take full advantage of it."

"I've never seen Mr. Snape in a good mood," said Ron. "Only the opposite."

"You probably never encountered him after he's been to his father's," said Sirius. "Severus all but worships him. Don't get it myself. I met Saul Snape once and he's one bastard of a man. But then, so is Severus."

00000000

Friday was payday at the firm. Harry wasn't expecting to get a check as he was only working there to pay off his fees for Shacklebolt's services, but shortly before he was to leave, Mrs. Glasser set one on his desk.

Harry picked it up and balked at the amount of his earnings. This couldn't possibly be right. He took his check and flagged down Shacklebolt, who was about to leave himself.

"Mr. Shacklebolt, there's been a mistake. Your fees weren't taken out of my pay."

Shacklebolt gave a nonchalant shrug. "Payroll must have forgotten."

"I can cash the check then give you the-"

"We'll just get it next time," interrupted Shacklebolt, as he headed for the doors.

Harry had the sneaking suspicion that payroll would 'forget' again next week. In fact, he suspected that payroll hadn't even been instructed to take anything out of his pay, but Harry thought it unwise to accuse his employer of lying. He'd find a way to pay Shacklebolt, even if he had to be underhanded about it.

Ron was waiting outside for Harry. He took Harry to Gringotts Bank to cash his check. Along the way, they passed the Hogsmeade Public Library and when Harry finished at the bank he asked Ron to take him there.

"Why do you want to check out some books?" asked Ron. "It's still summer vacation. I don't even want to look at a book until I absolutely have to. God knows we'll be reading enough as it is when school starts."

"I want to see if they have something," said Harry, as he got out of the car. "I'll be right back."

Inside the library, Harry found the card catalog. He looked up both _Phoenix Descending_ and Rita Skeeter and came up with absolutely nothing. Harry had been sure that the library would have a copy, if only because the author was a local citizen. Perhaps he was missing something.

He noticed a female employee shelving books on the cases next to the card catalog. She looked to be about Harry's age and had a tremendous mass of bushy brown hair. The gold tag on her blouse bore the name, Hermione.

"Excuse me," said Harry. "I was wondering if you had a book called _Phoenix Descending_ by Rita Skeeter. It's about the murders of James and Lily Potter."

"I know that book," said Hermione. "I'm sorry, but we don't carry _those_ kinds of books."

"What do you mean, '_those_ kinds of books'?"

"You know, sensational true crime books," she said with distaste coloring her voice. "Complete garbage, if you ask me."

_Well, no one asked you_, Harry felt like saying. There was something about this girl that grated his every nerve.

"But, I suppose if you really must have it, you might be able get it through our inter-library loan program." Her tone easily conveyed that she thought the book wasn't worth the effort.

"Okay, I'll try that," said Harry.

Hermione sighed. "Follow me."

She took him to the circulation department and stood behind a computer. After some rapid typing, she said, "Yes, one of our sister libraries has the book in stock."

"How long would it take for the book to arrive?"

"Since it is so late in the day, the library wouldn't get the order until Monday. It really depends on how busy they are. I'd say next Friday, by the latest."

"I'd like to order it."

Hermione held out her hand. "I'll need your library card."

"Umm, I don't have one."

Hermione was obviously straining to not roll her eyes. "Well then, I guess you need to apply for one. Name?"

"Harry Potter."

She abruptly looked up from her computer.

"They were my parents," answered Harry, to her unasked question.

"Oh…" said Hermione, a blush appearing on her cheeks. "I'm sorry, I wouldn't have-"

"Don't worry about it," said Harry, more curtly than he had intended.

Hermione's blush darkened. "Your address?"

After giving Hermione the rest of his information, Harry was in possession of a new library card.

"And how would you like to be notified when the book arrives? By phone or mail? You'll know sooner by phone."

"By mail." By phone might be quicker but there was a good chance that Sirius would take the call and Harry didn't want him knowing he was getting the book.

"Okay, we'll send you a letter as soon as we get the book in."

Harry nodded. He really wanted to remain and browse through the old newspapers, to see what information they might contain about his parents' murder. But, he couldn't keep Ron waiting. At the first opportunity, he'd be back.

"I thought you were getting a book," said Ron, seeing Harry return empty handed.

"They didn't have it," said Harry. "I had to order it from a different library."

"Ah," said Ron. "Well, we need to get home soon. Mom's throwing a little farewell dinner for the twins. They're moving into the dorms tomorrow."

Mrs. Weasley's little dinner turned out to be a full family function, with every Weasley sibling in attendance. Except for Percy, who had already left to attend Harvard.

The twins, though the guests of honor, were mostly ignored as all activity and discussion revolved around Bill, Fleur and their upcoming wedding. The only stand out was Ginny, who sat alone in a corner and continually sent scathing looks in Fleur's direction.

"Does Ginny not like Fleur?" Harry asked Ron as everyone sat in the living room, enjoying Mrs. Weasley's homemade apple pie.

"She's just mad because Fleur didn't ask her to be a bridesmaid," said Ron. "Said her hair clashes with the dresses."

"All the rest of us are in the wedding," said Fred, who came up beside Ron. "'S'not right to exclude Ginny. But George and I are working on something that's going to change that."

"What are you going to do?" asked Ron.

Fred grinned and shook his head. "Better to remain ignorant and innocent."

"Mom will kill you if you fuck up Bill's wedding!"

"We're not fucking it up. We're making it better."

It was pretty late when the party of Weasleys finally disbanded. Despite much pleading, Mrs. Weasley refused to let anyone go out as everyone needed to get up early in the morning and she didn't trust them to return at a decent hour.

Thoroughly put out by his captivity, Ron moped in his room. Ron wasn't very good company at the moment so Harry left him to his sulking and helped the twins with their last minute packing. Harry didn't mind having to stay in, but he would rather be at Grimmauld Place, talking to Draco on the phone.

Harry woke up just after dawn the next morning, Though the hour was early, all of the Weasleys were already wake and crowded around the kitchen table, fighting with each other for a bit of breakfast. Harry joined the battle long enough to grab some toast then went to shower and dress.

"No, no, no!" Mrs. Weasley was shrieking when he returned. The twins had begun moving their suitcases and boxes downstairs and had amassed a very large pile in the middle of the living room floor. "There is no need to take all of this! You won't even be a mile away!"

"We need this stuff, Mom!" said George, protectively clutching a black and white sombrero to his chest.

"Too bad! You have ten minutes to this junk back up to your room!"

"God! It's too early to listen to her squawking," said Ron, rubbing tiredly at his ears.

Eager to get away from the screaming Mrs. Weasley, Harry and Ron set out for Grimmauld Place and made plans to meet up later at the school festival.

Harry found Sirius in the kitchen. He sat at the table, clutching a cup of coffee with a bitter look on his face.

"Uh…last night didn't go as planned?" Harry asked.

"He left me, Harry," Sirius said sourly.

Harry felt the air go out of his lungs. He had been expecting it, but still…

"You and Severus broke-"

"No, _Snuffles_." Sirius spat the dog's name. "The second he saw Severus, he was out of here. He didn't even hesitate! But if that's he wants, then fine by me," said Sirius, in the indignant tones of a man done wrong. "I wash my hands of that flea bitten mutt!"

Sirius continued to fume and call Snuffles a litany of foul names. Harry bit his lip to quell his impending laughter. He knew that Sirius didn't really mean it. The next time Sirius saw Snuffles he would be panting after him like he always did.

"Well, we better head out," said Sirius, after a glance at the kitchen clock. "If we want to have any hope of getting a parking spot."

They rode their motorcycles into Hogsmeade. Though arriving early, Harry and Sirius had to park more than five blocks away as the school parking lot-the space needed for the festival--was blocked off.

Harry could hardly believe that, in less than a week, he would be starting school. He was actually feeling somewhat excited about it. Harry had come to realize that he had overreacted a little when Terry Boot first brushed him off. He knew he had friends and he wouldn't be the misfit outcast. But neither was he expecting instant popularity. He'd be somewhere in the middle. And for someone who had always been the social pariah, made to sit all by himself in the school cafeteria as Dudley and his friends spit paper wads into his food, being in the middle was pretty damn good.

As they came close to the school, Harry saw signs directing the new students and their parents to the auditorium, which was located in Gryffindor Hall. There was still half an hour before things were set to begin and many people loitered in the halls or in a large lounge like room that sat across from the auditorium.

That was where Harry and Sirius stood, as Sirius chatted with a few old friends and acquaintances he hadn't seen since before Azkaban. The room was known as the Lion's Den, according to Sirius, and served as the study hall and all around meeting place for Gryffindor students. Several round tables and cushy red and gold chairs were situated throughout. The walls were adorned with student created artwork and the floor was made from thousands of tiny tiles. In the center of the floor there was a mosaic emblem of a large red G. On the bottom curve of that letter laid a ferocious looking lion.

About fifteen minutes later, the crowd began to move into the auditorium. Harry and Sirius found seats a few rows from the stage. In the row in front of them was Hermione, the bushy haired girl he had met at the library just the day before. Beside her sat a younger girl with equally bushy hair though hers was jet black. The younger girl was being loud and generally obnoxious as she cried out to her friends across the auditorium.

"Stacia!" snapped Hermione, with a hand pressed to her forehead. "Shut up or we will leave right now!"

Stacia stuck out her tongue and turned her attentions to Harry. She batted her eyelashes and flipped her hair back as she tried to interrogate him. Hermione gave Harry an apologetic shrug.

"So…you're a senior…" Stacia said in a voice that was supposed to be sultry but came across as though she had a frog in her throat.

"Just tell her you're gay," whispered Sirius, who was watching the proceedings with vast amusement.

"Excuse me," A girlish voice came the aisle. She was young, obviously a freshman, and looked lost. She shyly eyed the seat next to Harry, one of the few empty spots left in the crowded auditorium. "Is someone sitting there?"

Harry shook his head and the girl took the seat with a little relief.

Stacia had witness the exchange and looked at the girl with frank curiosity.

"Who are you?" she asked. "I never saw you at the Junior High."

"Natalie MacDonald. I just moved here."

"Oh," said Stacia, her interest already waning, though she did examine Natalie from head to toe and let out a superior sounding giggle before turning back to Harry.

Harry knew why the girl had laughed. As did Natalie, it seemed, because her face crumbled as she patted down the front of her unfashionable, frosted denim outfit. She sunk into her seat, as though she were trying to make herself as small and unnoticeable as possible.

Stacia had only annoyed him before but now he felt an additional dislike for her. He had known people like her all his life. People who thought you weren't worth anything unless you had the trendiest clothes or hung out with the coolest people.

In a show of rudeness Harry hadn't realized he was capable of, he cut off Stacia, who had begun talking to him again, and to Natalie, said, "Hi, I just moved here, too. Where are you from?"

Natalie seemed surprised that Harry was talking to her but answered anyway.

"I was last in L.A.," she said softly.

"The City of Angels," said Harry. "Why would anyone want to move from sunny California to the miserable Midwest?"

"Well, my mom and I move around a lot," said Natalie, who was easing into the conversation. "We never stay in one place for long."

Harry didn't know quite what to say to her, but continued the discussion, nonetheless. He felt gratified as Natalie looked less and less like she wanted to flee and have a good cry.

A short while later, Mr. Dumbledore appeared on stage at the podium and the dim roar of the audience faded into silence. With him were four teachers who sat on chairs next to the podium. Harry recognized Mrs. McGonagall, and Severus. Harry thought Severus looked very odd in a white button down shirt and tie. All traces of the cowboy were gone but for the boots poking out from under his black dress trousers.

For the next half hour or so, Harry was treated to a slight variation of the same speech Mr. Dumbledore had given him when he first registered for school. Then the teachers, each of them coordinators for the four groups of the school went to the podium and gave a brief overview of their section.

First was Mrs. McGonagall, coordinator for the Gryffindors, those students who displayed an interest or talent in the fine arts, literature and language.

Next came Mr. Flitwick, the Civics teacher. He was an older man who was so short he needed to stand on a box to reach the microphone. Mr. Flitwick was in charge of Ravenclaw, which specialized in the social sciences.

Mrs. Sprout, a plump, hearty woman, taught Agricultural Science and was head of Hufflepuff. Hufflepuff was a mish mash of several subjects; all of them applied classes, in which students often received real work experience.

And, finally, there was Severus. His speech about Slytherin and the math and science classes was the shortest. He spoke in a bored, efficient manner that suggested he had given the very same speech numerous times in the past.

Following the speeches, juice and cookies were served in the cafeteria so that students and parents could meet and mingle with the teachers.

Unsurprisingly, Sirius immediately cornered Severus and hammered him with irrelevant questions about Harry's Honors Chemistry class. Severus must have truly been in a good mood as he took Sirius' inquiries with a calm, detached professionalism no matter how asinine the questions.

It wasn't until this moment that Harry realized that he had never seen Sirius and Severus interact in public. Harry knew Severus would never acknowledge Sirius as his boyfriend but he didn't expect them both to be so distant, acting as if they barely knew each other.

The charade was shattered when Mr. Dumbledore bounded over to them, clapped Sirius on the back and said, "Sirius! Congratulations, my boy! I heard you've been accepted into the M.A.E program." He paused and a mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes. "You know, one of our substitute teachers quit this summer and we've yet to replace her. I think you'd be perfect for the job."

A sharp intake of breath came from Severus. "It's finally happened, Albus!"

Mr. Dumbledore's white eyebrows lifted in surprise and confusion. "What? What's happened?"

"You've lost your last marble!" snarled Severus, his face growing red. "This man is not qualified to teach!"

"Oh, pish posh," Mr. Dumbledore said calmly. "You know the requirements for subs are much less than that for regular teachers."

"Be that as it may, I don't think the parents of Hogsmeade would want a man who just spent sixteen years in prison for _murder_ teaching their children!"

Harry's mouth fell open and Sirius was about to angrily reply but Mr. Dumbledore beat him to it.

"Severus! You know better than most that Sirius was completely innocent of those charges!"

"And what of his very recent arrest for assault and battery?"

"Oh…that…" mused the principal as he stroked his beard. "I believe all charges were dropped, so as far as we're concerned, it never even happened." Mr. Dumbledore smiled again at Sirius. "If you're interested, come by my office next week and I'll help you fill out the paperwork."

"You come back here, Albus!" exclaimed Severus as Mr. Dumbledore headed towards a long table laden with trays of cookies.

"Later," Mr. Dumbledore said airily, waving a hand. "They've just set out the pecan macaroons and I must beat the crowd."

Severus glared at the principal's back, looking incredibly betrayed. "Don't you even consider it," he said in a deadly whisper, his black eyes glittering with malice.

"You wanted me to get a job," Sirius said flippantly.

"I hardly meant-" Severus broke off, letting out something between a scream and a hiss, and stormed away.

"Well…Severus' good mood just got pissed on," said Sirius.

Harry nodded. "I think you'll be sleeping alone tonight."

"Eh," said Sirius, shrugging. "He'll get over it."

0000000

Being good hadn't worked at all. Five days of irreproachable behavior had resulted in absolutely nothing. Undeterred, he had turned to whining and complaining, which only earned him a fifty percent decrease in his weekly allowance. In the end, Draco employed his final weapon.

Silent treatment.

It had been exactly four days, two hours and seventeen minutes since he had last spoken to either of his parents.

Lucius, being the cold, unfeeling bastard that he was, didn't seem to care at all. Narcissa, however, grew increasingly teary-eyed every time her son completely ignored her.

She would snap soon, Draco was sure of it. He'd _make_ sure of it.

"Draco, sweetie," said Narcissa as she stood in the open doorway of his bedroom. "Yoour father is waiting for us."

Draco continued reading his book as if he hadn't heard a thing. After a long pause, he looked up at his mother. Hope shone in Narcissa's eyes when Draco opened his mouth to speak. He quickly clamped his lips shut and turned his head.

There, that ought to do it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Narcissa's lips were trembling. "All right!" she said with a sob in her voice. "I'll talk to him."

Draco smiled behind his book. Lucius Malfoy might have thought he wore the pants in the family but he was sorely mistaken. Narcissa had her husband tightly wound around her little finger.

They were to go to the 33rd Annual Back to School Blast this afternoon. Normally, Draco tried, and failed, to get out of it. He always thought the functions were so very lame.

But Lucius loved attending them; brushing elbows with the local constituents, and acting like he was one of them. Never mind that he was a powerful U.S Senator, one of the richest men in the Midwest, and responsible for the employment of more than twenty percent of the community. During these times, he was simply 'Lucius', a Hogsmeade resident out to have a fun, wholesome time with his family.

Naturally, it was a big fucking farce. The politician in Lucius was always on. Every public event was another chance to be seen. Another chance to snag votes come election year.

Draco hadn't attempted to get out of going this time. That would have required him to talk to his parents. Plus, he had known Harry would be there. He wanted to see Harry, even if it had to be at some pathetic school carnival.

His father was standing alone by the entry doors in the foyer. Going along with his "I'm just a regular guy" persona, Lucius had left his usual power suit in the closet, donning a polo shirt and pair of khakis, instead.

Lucius' cool eyes stayed level on his son as Draco silently joined him and pretended intense interest in the swirled patterns on the marble floor.

A gasp from Lucius made Draco look up.

Only minutes before, Narcissa had been every bit the prim and proper Senator's wife, in an elegant but casual blue pantsuit. Now, as she slowly descended the steps, a dark red, spaghetti-strapped dress hugged her body. Her hair fell in a golden cascade down her back.

"Cissa!" hissed Lucius. "You wore the red Armani..." His voice lowered into a husky purr. "You know what that dress does to me."

Narcissa tucked her chin into her shoulder with a demure smile. She held out a hand to Lucius who kissed the palm and ran his lips up to the crook of her elbow. His cane clattered to the floor as he picked up his wife and carried her up the stairs.

Draco took a seat. This was going to take awhile.

Two and half hours later, Draco was starting to get annoyed. Did they have to be so damn _thorough _in the matter? A simple wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am would have sufficed for anyone.

But not Lucius and Narcissa. They never did anything by halves.

He had moved to the room off the library that housed his coins. Finally, just after he had finished cataloging the latest of his collection, Narcissa swept into the room, looking flushed and well sated. She was once again in her pantsuit and her hair had been pulled back into a simple knot at the back of her head.

"It's time to go," she said.

Draco, of course, ignored her.

"Your curfew has been lifted."

And about damn time too!

He really ought to let her suffer a little longer; after all, she could have intervened on his behalf much sooner. But…

What the hell.

"Thank you, Mother."

Narcissa beamed.

Lucius drove them to the high school in one of their older cars, a shiny black Lincoln that was actually quite luxurious inside but, outwardly, did not give the impression of too much wealth. It was nearing four o'clock by the time they arrived and Draco hoped Harry hadn't left already.

Draco was forced to admit that the school had gone all out this year. Where once there had been a football field, school parking lot and surrounding fields, there were now dozens upon dozens of game booths, concession stands, and carnival rides. It seemed as if everyone in Hogsmeade had shown up for the event.

For the first half hour, Draco played the dutiful son, shaking hands and smiling his face off as Lucius schmoozed his way through the crowds. All the while he kept an attentive eye out for Harry.

At long last, he spotted Harry with the Weasel. Both of them were at a booth, throwing beanbags at lead-filled milk bottles. One pitiful, pouty-lipped look at Narcissa was all it took for Draco to gain his freedom.

He strolled, unhurriedly, to Harry, not wanting to appear overeager.

Just as he was approaching, Harry knocked the milk bottles down and was rewarded with a large, neon pink teddy bear, which he promptly handed over to a young girl in an exceptionally revolting denim ensemble that hadn't been in fashion since 1987, if even then.

"Thank you, Harry!" the girl gushed.

Ron noticed Draco first and groaned his displeasure.

"Your _friend_ is here."

"Huh?" said Harry, turning around. "Oh, hi! I was worried you weren't-"

"Hey, Harry, I'm going to go get something to eat," Ron interjected, clearly desiring to remove himself from Draco's presence.

Draco didn't mind the implied insult. Getting rid of the boy had been first on his list. Now he just had to do something with the girl who couldn't keep her eyes off Harry. Thankfully, Harry did it for him.

"Uhh…Hey, Natalie," Harry said. "I'll see you around, okay?"

Natalie nodded as she hugged her pink teddy bear.

"Looks like you got yourself a new girlfriend," teased Draco as they walked away from the booth.

"Jealous?" asked Harry, grinning. "I met her earlier. She's been tagging along after me all day." His smile suddenly dropped into a frown. "I hope I didn't give her the wrong idea or anything. I was only trying to be nice."

"Well, this ought to set her straight," said Draco, suddenly turning to Harry and giving him a long kiss on the mouth.

When they broke apart Harry was blushing and looking around.

"People are staring at us," he said, unmistakably embarrassed.

"People are going to stare at you when you're with a Malfoy. They're always interested in what we're doing."

The statement reeked of arrogance, Draco knew, but it was also the truth. Being a member of such a prominent family came with its disadvantages. It was a situation that had annoyed him immensely until he learned to use it for his own amusement, taking great joy in scandalizing those nosy individuals who insisted on watching his every move. If they were going to look, then he'd give them something to look at.

"I'll have to get used to it then."

Draco liked the way Harry said that. It gave their relationship a sort of permanence. As if Harry expected to be with him for some time. He was suddenly filled with images of them old and wrinkled, chasing each other around Malfoy Estates in matching wheelchairs.

He shook the visions away. What was he, a thirteen-year-old girl?

Next he'd be doodling 'Draco Potter' all over his notebooks.

"Draco," said Harry, waving a hand in front of Draco's face. "Are you there?"

"Sorry, got distracted."

"Oh. I asked if you had to leave at five."

Draco smiled. "Nope! I can stay out as late as I want now."

He pulled Harry towards a small tent covered in jewel colored fabrics. "Come on, Ms. Trelawnley has her booth up again this year. It's the best thing here. We'll get her to do both of us."

"Isn't she the art teacher? Does she do portraits or something?"

"Nope," said Draco. "She's a psychic!"

"Psychic?" said Harry, unable to stifle a laugh. "Do you really believe in all that?"

"She's the real thing," insisted Draco. "When I went to the festival in the ten grade, she told me to avoid Beauxbatons Boulevard during the Ides of September, but I didn't listen to her, and bad things happened."

"What?"

"I got hit by a car. I was in a coma for a week and my arms were broken in three different places. I had to go physical therapy for over a year."

"That's awful! Did the person who hit you get in trouble?"

"The courts decided it wasn't his fault, and didn't do anything to him….but Father did," he added with a cryptic smile.

Outside the tent stood a wisp of a woman in a long, flowing dress. A pair of large glasses magnified her eyes to an unsettling degree, giving her a bug-like appearance.

"Oh, no, Mr. Malfoy," said Ms. Trelawnley, wariness in her misty voice. "Not you again. You know I dislike reading for you. Everything about you is off-kilter. It clouds my inner eye."

"Please?" pleaded Draco but Ms. Trelawnley was absolute in her refusal. "Well, at least give Harry a reading."

She fiddled the numerous silver bracelets on her wrists as she inspected Harry. After a long pause, she nodded.

Draco started to follow them inside but Ms. Trelawnley blocked his path. "Just him. You stay put."

Ten minutes later, Harry came out of the tent looking very skeptical.

"What did she say?" Draco demanded without haste.

"That I have been marked." Harry raised a hand to his scar as he said this. "And a lot of confusing stuff about seeing myself outside of the mirror. Oh and she said that to save the one I love I must not love them back. That's silly. How can I not love someone I already love?"

Draco could only shrug in answer. "Was there anything else? You were in there for a while."

"Eh, nothing important," Harry said.

"Oh, there was something."

"Really, it's nothing. Besides, I don't believe in any of it, anyway."

That's what Harry said, but Draco could detect a great amount of discomfort in the boy. He wondered what Ms. Trelawnley could have possibly said to bother Harry so much. But Harry wasn't telling and he quickly changed the subject.

"Let's go ride something," said Harry. "I haven't hit the Ferris Wheel yet."

Draco had never seen anyone get so excited over something as simple, and in his opinion, as boring, as the Ferris Wheel. Harry approached the carnival ride, and the many others that followed, with such a child-like exuberance that Draco suspected it was a new experience for him. And given what Draco knew of Harry's past, it probably was.

Knowing this, Draco did not want to stomp on Harry's fun and he tried not to let his boredom show. It was much easier than he'd thought it'd be. Harry's excitement was highly contagious and Draco found it catching.

"God, I think I'm going to get sick," said Harry, near green with queasiness after their seventh trip on the tilt-a-world.

"I told you not to eat all that cotton candy," scolded Draco. "Come on, let's take a break."

Wanting a little privacy, they went to a small grove of trees that was a good distance away from the hustle and bustle of the carnival. Draco sat with his back against a tree. Harry was between his legs, leaning against him.

"Feel better?" asked Draco as he rubbed soothing circles on Harry's stomach. Draco wondered what Harry would do if he let his hand travel a little lower. Tempted as he was, Draco didn't dare. There were quite a few people still about and though that appealed to his exhibitionist side, Lucius would kill him if he were caught doing anything inappropriate.

"God! Get a fucking room!"

"Why, hello, Blaise," said Draco, annoyed, as the girl came into view.

"Someone told me there were a couple of boys making out over here. I knew it'd be you two."

"We weren't making out."

"Yeah, that's why Harry is sitting on your lap with a big fucking hard-on," said Blaise, eliciting a gasp from Harry.

Curious, Draco looked over Harry's shoulder. There was a great deal of tenting, indeed. Draco was inordinately pleased with himself, to have that effect on Harry through a bit of innocuous touching.

"Don't bother hiding it," Blaise said blithely as Harry lifted his knees to his chest. "I've already seen."

"Why are you here annoying us?"

"Hey, be glad it's me!" said Blaise. "It could have been your dad. He was looking for you so y'all can go home. I told him I'd give you a ride since I'm already going over to Theodore's house. A shame you're grounded. He's having a party tonight."

"I'm not anymore. And Theodore never told me about a party." Draco felt extremely irritated at being left out of the loop.

"That's cuz he doesn't know yet."

"Won't he get mad when a bunch of people show up at his house, uninvited?" asked Harry.

"Nah, he's used to it," said Blaise. "Besides, it's just a small gathering. I'm gonna head over there now, if you want to go."

Draco preferred his other plans for the night. Plans that involved getting Harry alone and taking care of the still present bulge in Harry's pants. But, Harry had perked up at the mention of a party and Draco did want him to meet Theodore.

His hold on Harry was unnecessarily tight as they zoomed through Hogsmeade on Harry's motorcycle. Well, not zoomed, as Harry went at a snail's pace, stopping at almost every block to ask if Draco was still okay.

Draco was more than okay, being pressed so closely to Harry. He lamented that it only took a few minutes to reach Theodore's house. Riding with Harry was something Draco could have done for hours.

Theodore Nott lived in the same wealthy neighborhood as Draco. In fact, if Draco strained his neck just so, he'd be able to see the rooftops of Malfoy Estates in the distance. They were the first to arrive and though being fashionably late was best, Draco thought Theodore might appreciate a little warning that his house was about to be invaded.

The Nott's housekeeper, a grandmotherly woman Draco only knew as Mama Lou answered their knock and led them to library. Inside, a tall, reedy boy with a glumy expression sat in a leather armchair, staring pensively into a roaring fireplace. His black hair was severely parted and slicked to the side. He wore brown corduroy pants and an argyle sweater that was matched perfectly to his socks. Dozing in a wheelchair next to him was a very old man bundled up in a thick blue robe.

"It's a bit much, to have a fire going in the summer, don't you think?" asked Draco, wiping his brow as he walked inside sweltering room with Harry following closely behind.

"Father chills easily." Theodore grabbed a small black remote and aimed it at the fireplace. The flames instantly disappeared. "Happy now?" he asked then looked pointedly at Harry and then at Draco. "Aren't you going to introduce us?"

"Oh! Harry this is Theodore Nott. Theodore, Harry Pot-."

A burst of loud laughter from the hall interrupted the introductions.

"Who was that?" asked Theodore.

"Probably Blaise," said Draco. "You're having a party tonight, by the way."

"Am I?" Theodore glanced at the elderly Mr. Nott. "Good thing I already knocked Father out with a couple of sleeping pills." He stood and wheeled his sleeping father towards the library's doors. "I'll be back. I need to put Father to bed and give Mama Lou the night off before too many people arrive."

"Is that really his dad?" Harry asked incredulously, once Theodore was out of earshot.

Draco nodded and pointed to a larger than life portrait that hung above the fireplace. Its subject was a young woman who had short black hair and vivid blue eyes that were almost striking enough to call attention away from the fact that the rest of her face greatly resembled a pug. "That's his mom. My father said she only married Mr. Nott for his money. She died of heart disease when Theodore was two. It's just been him and his dad ever since."

"Talking about Theodore?" asked Blaise as she bounced into the library and went directly to the well-stocked bar to select several bottles of liquor.

"Yeah."

"Poor boy," said Blaise. "Always stuck here, changing his dad's diapers. Fortunately, he has good friends like us who are willing bring the fun and excitement right to his door."

"Not to mention it's pretty convenient to have parties here since Mr. Nott is usually out of it."

"Well, that too."

Blaise might have only invited a few people over, but as these things usually go, once word of a party gets out, everybody eventually shows up. Tonight was no different. Within half an hour, Theodore's house was packed with teenagers, all of them eager to dance, drink, and party themselves into oblivion before the daily grind of classes and homework began on Monday.

Harry seemed to be enjoying himself; too much for Draco's liking. With a great deal of help from the mysterious concoction Blaise had put in the punch bowl, Harry's inhibitions rapidly fell one by one. As the night progressed, he went from being a shy, quiet boy, rarely leaving Draco's side to laughing and chatting with anyone and everyone.

And the dancing.

The dancing!

Where the fuck had _that_ come from? It was not a skill Draco would have thought Harry possessed. Harry had tried to pull Draco out onto the floor but Draco simply did not dance. He had two left feet and knew better than to make himself look like a fool. Harry, however, was a regular Fred Astaire. And how the girls noticed. They all but lined up for a dance and Harry was too nice to say no.

"Playing the wallflower?" Ron Weasley asked snidely as he took a seat next to Draco.

"I'm keeping on eye on Harry," snapped Draco as he watched Morag MacDougal bump and grind against Harry. The little bitch. As if she stood a chance. "I wouldn't put it past any of these sluts to try to take advantage of his drunken state."

Damn it, if anyone was going to take advantage of Harry tonight, it was going to be him.

"It's not the girls you ought to be worrying about," said Ron. "You're not the only one that's been watching Harry all night."

"Who?"

Ron pointed to a corner where a group of dazed people sat together, sharing a rolled joint. Among them was a short boy in faded army fatigue pants and a black t-shirt. Longish brown hair in bad need of a cut obscured much of his eyes but it was clear they were planted squarely on Harry.

"Why is Neville staring at Harry?" asked Draco before his mind supplied the answer. "Shit. I forgot."

"You forgot? How could you forget something like that?"

"Well, I'm sorry! Unlike some people it's not the first thing I think about when I see Neville."

"Personally, I think it's really fucking creepy for him to look at Harry like that," said Ron. "There's going to be trouble, I can feel it."

"What? You think Neville would try to hurt Harry?"

"Are you kidding me?" asked Ron. "Of course he would. Longbottom is fucking deranged, just like his parents. His own grandmother was so terrified of him, she kicked him out."

"That's not how it happened."

"You're going to defend him?" Ron asked as he angrily stood up. "Oh, I remember, the little bastard is your friend! I thought you'd be on Harry's side on this."

"I am!" spat Draco. "I'm just saying Neville's grandmother didn't kick him out. He left on his own." Draco paused. "Do you think Harry knows about Neville?"

"Nope. He's going to find out soon enough when school starts. I figure it will be better to hear about it from someone he knows."

"What about Sirius?"

Ron shrugged. "I doubt Sirius knows either, since he's been locked up so long. Though Mr. Snape might have told him."

"We can't tell him tonight."

"No. I was thinking of doing it tomorrow." Ron looked guardedly at Draco. "I'd rather not do it alone."

"Nasty habit, we've developed, teaming up for the sake of Harry," said Draco. "Speaking of, where did he go?"

In the few moments he had taken his eyes off Harry, the boy had managed to completely disappear. And so had Neville Longbottom, for that matter.

Draco felt a wave of panic course through his veins as he and Ron began searching for Harry. Neville would _not_ hurt him, Draco tried to reassure himself. He was just letting Weasley get to him.

000000

A bit of fresh air had seemed like a good idea at the time. But when Harry stepped out onto the Nott's patio he was met with another boy who was currently spilling his guts into a flowerbed. The retching sounds and scent of vomit activated Harry's nausea and in short time he had joined the boy, getting a lovely view of his own stomach's contents.

Puking was a fairly exhausting experience and afterwards Harry could do little but sit on the ground and hold his aching stomach. God, how pathetic was he, to be so drunk from a single cup of spiked punch.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked when the other boy began to dry-heave.

"I'm fine," the boy rasped sullenly, after a pause. He plopped on the ground and regarded Harry with hardened eyes. "Harry Potter."

Harry flinched at the anger in the boy's voice.

"Fuck!" he continued. "Why did you have move back, here? It's just bringing everything up again."

"Bring what up again?" Harry asked, his anxiety shifting into confusion.

"Fucking forget it," said the boy. He rose unsteadily to his feet and tried to take a step but stumbled right on top of Harry.

"Get off him, Longbottom!" Ron Weasley shouted, appearing out of nowhere and pulling the boy off Harry.

"What are you doing, Neville?" Draco asked in shock.

"Let me go!" yelled Neville, struggling to free himself from Ron's strong grip.

"Right," said Ron, strengthening his hold. "So you can attack Harry again? I don't fucking think so."

Harry's confusion grew exponentially by the second. "He didn't attack me," Harry said, but was ignored.

"Yeah, because like father, like son, Weasley? Isn't that how it goes?" Neville chuckled; a low, mad-sounding chuckle. "Who knows? Maybe it fucking does."

"Don't, Neville," said Draco, softly. "This isn't you."

"Of course, this is me," said Neville, turning bright eyes to Draco. "Everyone says so and everyone must be right."

"Just get the fuck out of here," growled Ron as he released Neville.

Neville gave Harry one final, hate-filled glare before storming into the house.

"What the hell is going on?" demanded Harry.

Ron and Draco turned their attention to Harry, their faces clouded with uncertainty.

"Well, Harry," said Ron. "We weren't going to tell you until tomorrow but-"

"Let me do it," interrupted Draco. "You're just going to fuck it up."

Draco sat on the ground across Harry and took both of his hands into his own. He opened his mouth several times to speak but nothing came out.

"Fine job, you're doing, Malfoy!"

"Fuck off, Weasley, I'm thinking!" snarled Draco. "This isn't easy!"

"What isn't easy?" pleaded Harry. There was something very strange going on. Something that involved him and that boy who seemed to hate him so much. Harry looked back and forth between Draco and Ron. "Will someone please just tell me something?"

"Harry," began Draco, in that soft, soothing kind of voice that usually meant bad news was to be delivered. "Umm, what _exactly_ do you know about, umm, your parents' murder?"

"What does Neville have to do with that?" asked Harry, completely flabbergasted by the unexpected question.

"Everything!" said Ron.

"Nothing!" argued Draco. "But, it's all related, I guess. Well?"

Harry swallowed hard. "Just…just what Sirius told me. That a cult called the Order of the Phoenix had targeted my family for some sacrifice. Their leader stabbed my father while his followers shot my mother. I was somehow spared…But how could Neville be involved with that?"

"He wasn't," said Draco, quickly. "But his parents were. They were in the cult and they were there at Godric's Hollow when your parents were murdered. It was Neville's father that shot your mother but his mother was charged as well, as an accomplice."

"So…Neville's parents are in prison for murdering mine?"

"Well, they didn't actually go to prison," said Draco. "They're in an asylum and they haven't spoken in sixteen years. Something happened that night that made them both go completely crazy. No one knows what."

"I say they were crazy all along, to be involved in some fucking cult," piped in Ron. "And Neville is no different. You saw how he was tonight."

"Look, Harry," said Draco. "Neville isn't that bad. Really. He was just drunk. And high. And I think it was probably freaking him out to see you."

"There you go again!" exclaimed Ron. "Taking up for him! Don't listen to him, Harry. Neville is fucking insane. Must be something in the blood!"

Harry tuned them both out, his head spinning. He didn't know how he was supposed to feel about this. And with the alcohol still hazing his brain, it was all too much to process at the moment. Harry did know that he didn't particularly care to listen to Draco and Ron argue over Neville Longbottom's sanity, or lack there of.

"Stop it! Both of you!" Harry sighed, suddenly feeling very tired. "I want to go home."

000000

**Closing A/N**: Yay! You finally met Hermione! I have been wanting to introduce her into the fic for a long time but I couldn't fit her in until now. Also, in case you are wondering, the reason I made Theodore's father so old was because it's quasi-canon. JKR has said on her website that Mr. Nott is a "very elderly widower". It went well with what I already had planned for Theodore so I decided to incorporate it in. I'm just mentioning it because I know that part seemed a little odd.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please review and let me know what you thought, good or bad. And remember, if you want to be notified of updates you can add me to your author alert on or keep an eye on my LJ at: 

Also, as part of a meme that was floating around on LJ, I have posted ten pieces of unknown information about Repetitions and the universe it is set in. Some of them are spoilers and may tell you more than you want to know about things to come. If you do decide to take a look and want to discuss them, please do so at my LJ and not on the reviews boards as to not ruin it for those who do not wish to be spoiled. You can find that post here: 

And I almost forgot. Inspired by the new C2 function at I decided to change my "favorites" list as a listing of non-magic AUs. If you liked Repetitions you might like some of the other stories that have a similar premise. You can find them by looking at my profile and clicking on the 

Take a look and if you have the time, please let me know of any stories I might have missed. The only requirement is that they are mugglized AUs.


End file.
